Unknown Dangers
by Little Miss Bump
Summary: Jeff Tracy has left his eldest son in charge of Tracy Island, but when Alan's sudden illness takes a turn for the worse, will the boys be able to get their ten-year-old brother to hospital in time, or will the Tracy family suffer another devastating loss?
1. Chapter 1: Dinner and Discussions

**_Yay! It's the first chapter of my new story! Okay, for all those who may become confused, this story takes place about four or so years before the movie!!Oh, and Tin-Tin and her family have not yet been rescued by Jeff Tracy, so they do not appear in this fic._**

**_Okay, everybody clear? Goody! Right, I hope you enjoy!_** **_Warnng - this chapter is pretty long for a first chapter, and they're only going to get longer, I'm afraid!!_**

**_Standard disclaimer; DO NOT OWN, BUT OH SO WISH I DID!! _**

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It was about 6:30pm on a hot summer evening, and the sun was shining brightly over Tracy Island. However, despite the aura of absolute paradise that surrounded the Tracy family in their luxurious villa, this particular time of day was always the most chaotic. The reason for this was simple. It was feeding time at the zoo.

Jeff Tracy stood in the hallway beside the dining room, the aromas of a freshly cooked meal drifting through from the kitchen. He stood in this spot for a particular reason, one which had long ago turned into a habit. It had become almost a daily ritual, and was one of the many ways in which Jeff amused himself before the carnage that took place at the table.

Taking a deep breath, he put his finger to the stop-watch on his electronic wrist-watch and stood as far against the wall as he could.

"BOYS, DINNER'S READY!" he yelled, pressing the button on his watch.

There was a moment of silence, and then the stampede began. Distant at first, and very faint, but it soon neared him and increased in volume as more pairs of feet joined in the chorus of stomping. Jeff smiled to himself as voices began to echo down the corridor.

"Ouch! Virge, that hurt! You stepped on me!" an angry voice was yelling.

"Whoops! Sorry, Gordo! Not my fault you've got giant flippers instead of feet!" a second voice replied, before bursting into laughter.

A tall, brown-haired figure sprinted around the corner, wearing a grin the size of Venus. He ran up to the dining room entrance, slapped his hand against the door-frame, and jumped up and down in glee.

"Ha! Yes! I win!" he celebrated, pointing triumphantly at the angry copper-haired figure who had appeared around the corner. He then turned to Jeff and smiled expectantly.

"Fourteen seconds." Jeff reported, clapping Virgil on the shoulder. "That's this years' record, Virge."

"WHAT?" a loud voice exclaimed. Jeff's oldest son, twenty-year-old Scott, had just run up to join them. "He beat my record? Darn!"

Jeff chuckled, pressing another button on his watch so that the face returned to showing the digital time. More running could be heard, getting closer by the second, and Scott stood back so that he would not be bowled over. Moments later, two more forms raced around the corner at top speeds, almost colliding with Gordon. Jeff's second-eldest, John, had been racing the youngest occupant of the island, Fermat.

"Aaand Fermat wins!" John cried, mimicking the voice of a sport's commentator. They were both bending over and clutching their knees, panting for breath.

"Fermat!" Virgil cried, sounding slightly exasperated. "You shouldn't be running around like that after the attack you had earlier."

All heads immediately snapped round to the small eight-year-old boy, who had gone a little pink and was wheezing slightly.

"You had another asthma attack?" John asked worriedly. "Fermat, why didn't you say?"

"It was only a l-l-little one." Fermat stuttered, turning a brighter shade of pink from embarrassment. Jeff ruffled his dark hair affectionately, smiling slightly. He considered Fermat to be a sort of nephew to him, as his father, Brains, was Jeff's closest friend.

"Well, just be careful, Fermat." he said, kindly. "We wouldn't want you passing out at the dinner table, would we?"

Fermat smiled up at him and shook his head. "N-no, Mr. Tracy. So, who w-w-w-got here first?"

"MEEEEE!" Virgil cried, doing a small celebratory jig. John snorted and shook his head.

"You are such a child." he stated. Virgil stopped the mad dance and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, and that's coming from _you_ 'Mr. still-watches-Tom-and-Jerry-every-morning'?" he said, sarcastically. John just stuck out his tongue at Virgil and crossed his arms over his chest, making Jeff laugh loudly.

"Now, that _is _childish, John!" he chuckled. "Besides, Virgil won fair and square so he has the right to celebrate."

"Fair and square?" Fourteen-year-old Gordon cried, pointing accusingly at Virgil. "He trod on my foot! I was in the lead until he attacked me!"

"Me? I wouldn't have been forced to stamp on your foot if you hadn't jumped on top of me from the stairs!" Virgil retorted crossly.

John put up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "Calm down you two, and stop acting like toddlers! Go and sit down at the table."

"You heard what 'Granny Tracy' said!" Scott grinned, patting John gently on the arm. "Now do as you're told, and don't forget to wash behind your ears!"

Everybody laughed, except John, who frowned and slapped the back of Scott's head. Jeff intervened before Gordon decided to join in and things got out of hand.

"Okay, boys! Dinner's getting cold. Let's go and eat!" he suggested loudly. Everybody agreed with enthusiastic nods and expectant grins.

The Tracy family, plus Fermat, filed into the dining room quickly. As they sat down, Jeff suddenly realised that somebody was missing from the table. He looked around the room, but could not spot the small form of his youngest son.

"Hey, where's Alan?" he asked. Gordon lifted his plate and made a show of looking underneath it, frowning in concentration.

"I can't see him here, dad." he said seriously. Virgil punched him in the arm gently, but he was smiling.

"He's probably just in the bathroom, dad." John remarked. "I saw him by the pool before you called us all to dinner, so he must have heard you."

At that moment, a small blond-haired figure entered the room. "Sorry I'm late." he said, slipping into his place between Fermat and Gordon.

"That's alright, son. We only just sat down." replied Jeff. He picked up the serving spoon and began to pile up Scott's plate with the hot macaroni cheese. John and Virgil poured Fermat and Alan glasses of juice, as the jug was far too big for either child to hold without the threat of spilling it all over the table.

"Who won the race?" asked Alan, passing Fermat's plate to his father.

"I did!" Virgil said proudly, setting his own full plate down in front of him. "Fourteen seconds! That beats Scott's record hands-down!"

"Say, Sprout, why didn't you race?" asked Scott, handing him a smaller portion of the pasta. "It's not like you to miss out on a chance to beat one of us to the table."

Alan shrugged, taking a sip of his juice. "Dunno. Just felt like walking, I guess."

Jeff smiled at him as he served himself a helping of pasta onto his own plate. "Trying to be a rebel, huh?" he chuckled. "I'll have to keep a closer eye on you. It seems that being a year older has put some wacky ideas into your head!"

Alan giggled, grinning up at his father. Two days ago, it had been Alan's tenth birthday, and he appeared to have take great pride in the fact that his age 'now had two digits instead of just one', as Alan had so quaintly put.

"Hey dad, what was it you wanted to talk to us about after dinner?" asked Scott, taking a bite of pasta and chewing energetically.

"What's this?" asked Gordon, looking from his father to Scott. "You wanted to talk to us? Nobody told me."

Jeff held up a hand to silence the questions on everybody else's lips. "That's because I haven't announced it yet." he smiled. "Scott's reading between the lines again. What I was going to tell you, is that there's a family meeting in the living room after dinner. That includes you, Fermat, you're family."

Fermat beamed happily at him, and Jeff favoured him with an affectionate smile.

"Dad?" Gordon ventured, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What are we discussing?"

"You'll find out later." Jeff chuckled, tucking into his own meal. Gordon looked over at Scott, practically bouncing in frustration. Scott just smiled and offered him the salad.

"You're cruel." Gordon muttered, trying to kick him from under the table. However, as Jeff was sitting in between them, he only succeeded in catching his father's leg by accident.

"Gordon, please don't kick me." Jeff asked, not even looking up from his meal. Scott and Virgil snorted into their plates, trying and failing to hide their obvious amusement. Even Fermat was giggling into his glass of juice. Only John and Alan were able to keep a straight face. John because he was the most talented when it came to keeping his cool, and Alan because the youngest Tracy didn't appear to have noticed anything amiss.

Gordon blushed scarlet, mumbling an apology and quickly occupying himself with his pasta. Jeff laughed inwardly, knowing that his son hadn't intended the blow to land upon _his _legs. It had, of course, been aimed at Scott. What surprised Jeff the most was that, even after all these years of him sitting in between them at the table, they had still not worked out that the reason behind this was in order to _prevent_ Gordon from kicking his older brother. The water-loving Tracy had done this since he was a toddler, and Jeff knew that it would be a long time before he grew out of the habit. Despite Gordon's continual complaints of ''I'm old enough'' and ''For goodness sakes, I'm fourteen!'', the teenager was still a child at heart.

Dinner passed by without too much fuss, which was a phenomenon in itself. This was mainly because Alan, who was often the primary source of the noise, was not talking as much as he usually did. No, he seemed decidedly subdued for a ten-year-old Tracy. He ate his dinner in relative silence, regarding his older brothers as they discussed planes, cars and sport - the normal conversation at the Tracy dinner-table.

Once they had finished their desserts, Jeff left the boys to clear up the table and headed for the living room. He wondered if they'd be able to complete their task without breaking any plates. It wasn't the youngest two he had to worry about, however. It was Gordon and Virgil who were often the culprits to crockery-related accidents, as they had a habit of trying to throw the plates Frisbee-style towards each other. This was mainly an attempt to antagonise Scott, and it usually worked, too. Scott had a habit of 'freaking out' whenever one of his younger brothers was doing something that was less than desirable, and lobbing plates across the room slotted into this category quite nicely. If Gordon and Virgil were up to their usual tricks, Scott was probably flapping about worriedly in a fruitless attempt to stop them.

Jeff chuckled to himself at the mental image, sitting down in an armchair and smiling at the line of photographs along the mantlepiece. The newest one was of Scott in his junior air-force uniform, standing beside the nose of his F-20 fighter jet and grinning like a maniac. John had taken this picture just after Scott had been offered a position in the Air-force base in Boston, and Scott's face had shown his reaction towards the exciting proposition. It was safe to say that he had been rather happy about it.

"Dad?"

Jeff turned towards the door, spotting his youngest son. He smiled warmly.

"Come on in, Alan. Did you finish cleaning up the dishes?" he asked. Alan nodded, grinning slightly.

"Virgil dropped one by accident, so Scott made him sweep the whole dining room as a punishment!" he said, sitting down on the couch opposite Jeff and rubbing at a black bruise on his knee.

"Alright, there's no need to sound so happy about it!" grumbled Virgil, striding into the room and plonking himself in one of the chairs. "Stupid older brothers."

"Virgil." Jeff warned. "Scott isn't stupid, and he has the awards to prove it. He'll give you a full-length lecture on his early college graduation, if you'd prefer-"

"NO!" Virgil said hurriedly, looking both scared and disgusted at the idea. "That's alright, I take it back. Scott's not stupid."

"Glad to hear it." Scott remarked, entering the room with John, Fermat and Gordon. He and John sat on the couch beside Alan, Scott putting an arm around the youngest Tracy's shoulders. Fermat plonked himself beside Gordon on another couch, looking expectantly at Jeff.

"Right, let's get to the point." Jeff started. "As you all know, it'll be another three days until Brains gets back from the technology conferences in San Diego." Everybody nodded the affirmative, wondering where the Tracy patriarch was going with this one.

"Well," Jeff continued. "I have business that I need to discuss with one of the engineers there, so I'm planning on heading down there tomorrow morning and staying until Brains needs to come back."

"So who's in charge whilst you're gone?" asked Gordon testily. Jeff smiled.

"Scott, of course. That means you have to do exactly what he tells you to do, just as you would do me if I were here, understood?"

Gordon plastered an innocent smile on his face. "Me? Why do you even have to ask? Of _course _I'll follow the captain's orders!"

Scott snorted. "Yeah, right. And pigs might fly."

"Really?" cried Gordon. "How do they do that, then? Do they use their tales to propel themselves upwards, or do they have wings that erupt spontaneously from their backs?"

Virgil and John both dissolved into laughter at Gordon's matter-of-fact tones. Fermat looked slightly confused, seemingly trying to work out the scientific theory behind flying pigs. Scott just glared at the copper-haired Tracy as if he were trying to figure out the best way in which to squash him.

"Alright, boys, that's enough." Jeff chuckled, holding up his hands. "As I was saying, Scott will be left in charge for a few days, so please behave yourselves and try and do what he says. Furthermore, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me, Fermat? I know your dad would love to see you, and you could stay in the science museum during the conferences if you wanted to. There's a good friend of mine who has volunteered to look after you for me when I'm away. What d'you think? Do you wanna come?"

Fermat beamed and nodded his head. "Y-yes please, Mr. Tracy. That'd be g-g-g-fantastic!"

Jeff grinned at him and turned his attention back to his other sons. "Alright then, so it's agreed. Everybody okay with the arrangements?"

There were four, deep-voiced answers of ''Yep!'', and Jeff turned to where his youngest sat.

"What about you Alan?" he asked. Alan did not respond, and all members of the room turned to look at him. The small blond-haired boy had fallen asleep on the couch, his head pillowed on Scott's shoulder. Scott's face softened into an affectionate smile, and he gently brushed his fingers over Alan's cheek.

"Alan?" he called softly. "Alan, wake up buddy!" The boy stirred slightly and opened his eyes, blinking wearily up at his big brother.

"What?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. Jeff smiled and stood up, coming to crouch down in front of his youngest son.

"I think somebody needs to go to bed." he said softly. Alan didn't even bother to argue, he just nodded groggily and stood to his feet.

"What have you been doing today, Sprout?" chuckled Scott. "Whatever it was, you've used up all the fuel in your tank. It's only seven-thirty and you're already dead on your feet."

Alan leaned forward and hugged him. "'Night, Scotty." he murmured. Scott ruffled his hair and planted a gentle kiss on the boy's cheek.

"Sleep tight, Alan." he said, giving the boy a soft shove in John's direction. The eighteen-year-old pulled Alan into a hug and kissed his blond locks, telling him that he needed to eat more sugar in order to stay awake longer. Scott guffawed and clipped the star-loving Tracy around the back of the head.

"You're setting a really bad example, you know." Scott sighed. "You're addicted to sugar, that's your problem!"

"Am not!" John protested. "Just because _I _can survive eating a chocolate bar without going completely hyper! You're just jealous!"

"I absorb sugars too quickly, it's not my fault!" complained Scott. "And besides, you just use your unnaturally slow metabolism as an excuse to eat _way _too much chocolate!"

"Well, I don't show it do I, fatty?" John retorted. Scott bristled. He wasn't in the least bit fat, but his muscular build was broader than John's and had always been something he had found annoying. No matter how much John ate and how little he exercised, he never put on any weight. It was a trait he had inherited from his mother's side of the family.

"What did you just call me?" Scott growled, leaning towards John menacingly. John smiled and patted his cheek.

"C'mon, podgy! I'll let you burn off some of that puppy fat chasing me around the pool!" he offered calmly, before springing to his feet and sprinting out of the door with Scott hot on his heels.

"And they call _me _immature!" Gordon commented, shaking his head. He released Alan from the gentle head-lock he'd been holding him in, and Jeff put an arm around the youngster's shoulders.

"C'mon, son. Time for bed." he said, leading Alan towards the door. Before he exited, he turned back towards Fermat. "Fermat, you need to go to bed a little early this evening too, okay? You've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow. You can stay up another half an hour, then I'll help you to pack a few things in a bag before bedtime, alright?"

"Yes, sir." Fermat agreed, pushing his blue glasses back up his nose. Jeff smiled at him, then turned and herded his youngest out of the room. They walked down the long corridor and up a flight of stairs before finally reaching Alan's bedroom. For convenience, Alan's bedroom was situated next to Gordon and Scott's so that the eldest could keep and eye on the two trouble-makers. This floor was also closest to the movie-room, where Scott and John were often found during the evening as they watched their favourite classics on the massive screen.

"Go get into your pyjamas and brush your teeth, I'll be there in a minute to say goodnight." said Jeff, giving Alan a gentle shove into his bedroom.

He then went out onto the balcony at the end of the corridor and looked out onto the tropical jungle, inhaling the scent of the wild vegetation. He loved the island, especially its seclusion, but one thing was worrying him. He didn't know how to care for the plants in this sort of environment. That has always been Lucy's forte. Jeff had been considering the possibility of hiring a gardener for quite some time now, but there was one small problem. How could he employ somebody to come and work on the island without telling them the secrets of International Rescue? He wanted the person to be somebody that he trusted deeply, somebody that he knew he could count on. But he had never known a botanist, so that made things difficult.

He sighed deeply and entered the house once more. _I'll think about it at a later date. Right now, I need to concentrate on getting Thunderbird 2 finished. Once that's done, we'll be ready for action. But Brains says that the modifications to the engines could take another year to complete, so we've got quite a bit of waiting to do. On the other hand, Thunderbird 1 will be ready for action in only a few months. I know that Scott can't wait to try it out. He's always loved fast planes, and his training with the junior air force last summer has left him itching for more. I bet he's gonna fall in love with that vehicle the minute that he sits in the pilot seat._

Jeff pushed Alan's door open, peering inside. Alan sat on his bed under the duvet, blinking desperately in an attempt to keep awake. Jeff smiled fondly, moving into the room and perching on the edge of the bed.

"You brushed your teeth?" he inquired. Alan nodded his head, grinning to show his father the pearly whites. "Good boy. Right, time to go to sleep."

Alan scooted down under the covers, snuggling into the pillow and sighing in content. He smiled when his father handed him his large, brown teddy-bear, and Alan's little arms encircled the soft toy lovingly. Jeff leaned down and planted a long, gentle kiss on Alan's forehead.

"Goodnight, son. I love you." he said softly. Alan pecked him on the cheek and smiled.

"Love you too, dad. 'Night."

Jeff ran a hand through the blond hair - so very much like his mothers - and brushed a finger over Alan's cheek tenderly. Then he stood up and walked to the door, pausing at the entrance long enough to regard his son as he lay on the bed.

_He's growing up so fast. I really can't believe that he's already ten. What happened to my little blue-eyed baby that used to stretch from my chin to my navel? Time has flown by so quickly without you here, Lucy. But I know that you're watching over us all. And I bet you're thinking the same thing as me - Alan will always be our baby, no matter what happens._

He smiled lovingly at the small boy, who was still quite short for his age, and flicked off the light-switch. Alan's breathing had already evened out, indicating that he was fast asleep. Jeff sighed again, cocking his head to one side and smiling.

"Goodnight, little one." he whispered, and then he closed the door on the sleeping form and headed off down the corridor in search of the rest of his sons.

Within the bedroom, Alan Tracy rolled over in his sleep, grimacing subconsciously as the movement caused a slight twinge of pain. Yet he slept on peacefully, his small arms hugging the stuffed animal tightly, unaware of the dangers that awaited him in the not-to-distant future.

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**_What happens when Alan starts feeling unwell, and Jeff isn't there to look after him? Will the boys notice any change in Alan's behavior? Find out in the next chapter!_**

**_There we are, chapter one is finally up! I know it's a bit of a slow start, but I had to set the scene and time-frame. I promise there'll be more action in the next chapter! I will try and update tomorrow, but as these chapters are a little but longer than in my last story, I might not be able to post it until Sunday evening. Hope you liked it! PLEASE REVIEW, and give me lots of feedback, I'd like to know what you thought about my story so far._**

**_Thanks!!_**


	2. Chapter 2: A Funny Feeling

**_Right, chapter two is up! Thank you to all those who have reviewed thi story so far, I was both surprised and pleased when the response came so quickly! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the first!!_**

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The morning dawned bright and early on Tracy Island, and Alan awoke to the familiar sound of an exotic bird singing a high-pitched tune outside his window. The small boy smiled slightly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and sighing in happiness. He loved the summer holidays. It promised adventures and games with his older brothers - a privilege he had been deprived of during the school term. Now he was looking forward to a new day filled with fun. Especially with Scott. He'd missed Scott the most, as his oldest brother had been unable to come home for weekends like the rest of his brothers because of the junior Air-force training sessions he attended. And weekends for Alan hadn't felt quite complete for several weeks when his oldest brother was absent, as he and Scott shared a close relationship together. Alan didn't know quite how to describe it, but Scott wasn't just a brother, he was... something else, too. He wasn't like dad, and yet in a way he was. Alan couldn't put it into words, as he just ended up confusing himself.

Alan sprang out of bed energetically, but he stopped when he felt a twinge in his side. He winced and rubbed it gently, trying to sooth the sting.

_Must have pulled a muscle or something, like I did last Saturday when Scotty and I were playing on the beach and I over-stretched my leg. That really hurt. But it went away when Scotty rubbed it, so maybe it'll work for me too._

The pain disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Alan bustled into his small bathroom to wash. He took a quick shower, being sure to wash his hair thoroughly with the sweet-smelling shampoo. His father and brothers seemed to enjoy ruffling his hair more than anything else, so Alan had always taken great care in making sure that his blond locks were clean and soft. He stepped out of the shower and hurriedly scrubbed himself dry, changing into a pair of light shorts and his favourite T-shirt with the motorbike on it. As he began to brush his teeth, he paused and frowned. Something wasn't right. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but something didn't _feel _quite right. It wasn't a pain or a sick feeling, but it was - plain weird.

Shrugging it off, Alan rinsed his mouth out and grabbed a pair of socks. Pulling them on, and donning a pair of trainers, Alan jogged out of his room and down the corridor. As he rounded the corner, he paused again. There it was, that funny feeling he'd experienced a few moments ago. Except this time it was stronger. He didn't like it, it was starting to make him feel queasy.

"Hey, Sprout!"

Alan jumped violently when two hands grabbed him around the middle. Scott laughed, hugging the startled boy close to his chest and ruffling the damp locks.

"Easy, kiddo. Bounce any higher and you'll go through the ceiling!" he joked. Alan turned around in his arms and tried to glower, but a grin soon replaced the frown and he hugged Scott around his waist.

"Morning, Scotty!" he said, using a hand to smooth his hair back down again. At that moment, another brown-haired figure rounded the corner. Alan stared in disbelief. "Virgil?"

His older brother stopped in his tracks, a questioning frown on his face. "What? What is it, Al?"

"You're awake!" Alan exclaimed. "And it isn't even seven yet!"

Scott crouched down beside him and nodded, regarding Virgil with a mock-worried expression. "Yeah you're right, Al. You know, Virge, you really shouldn't break a sixteen-year-long habit. Are you feeling alright? Maybe you're sick."

He made a show of standing up and feeling Virgil's forehead, until the teenager swatted Scott's hand away in annoyance. "Very funny, Scott." he said. "You know why I'm up. I'm going to say bye to Fermat and dad, they leave in fifteen minutes."

"They WHAT?" Alan demanded, completely flabbergasted. Scott and Virgil exchanged glances, and Scott crouched down again in front of Alan.

"You remember, kiddo, we told you at the meeting last night." he said softly. Alan stared up at him in confusion.

"I knew that _dad_ was going away, but nobody said anything about Fermat!" he complained. Virgil suddenly snapped his fingers as realisation dawned upon him.

"Oh, Sprout, I'm sorry." he apologised. "You fell asleep. I forgot that you might not have heard everything that we discussed. Fermat's going away with dad for a few days so that he can see Brains. He'll come back when the conferences are over."

Alan felt his heart sinking. Fermat was his best friend, and had been for nearly four years now. They did everything together, and Alan had been looking forward to playing games with his older brothers and Fermat, as the young Hackenbacker was just over a year younger than him. This meant that he was not the only one treated like a baby when they played, and Alan found comfort in that fact. Now it would just be him. Life wasn't fair.

"Hey, c'mon, cheer up, Allie." Scott comforted, putting an arm around his shoulders and guiding him towards the dining room. "It's only for a couple of days, and then you and Fermat can spend all the time you like together. Besides, now you and I have the opportunity to spend some quality brother-time together, right?"

That brought Alan's smile back. His eyes sparkled as he grinned up at his older brother and nodded enthusiastically. Scott laughed and squeezed his shoulder, pushing him gently into the room and towards the table. Alan pulled out his chair and sat down.

"G'morning, Sprout!" Gordon greeted, ruffling his hair as he took a seat beside him. "You want some juice?"

"Yes please." Alan replied, accepting the glass from his older brother and taking a sip. He looked around at the breakfast goods on the table, trying to decide which one he wanted to eat. And then he realised that, in truth, he didn't want to eat any of them. That funny feeling he'd felt earlier was still with him, and he found that he wasn't particularly hungry at all. Food just didn't appeal to him at the moment.

"Scotty, can I have breakfast later?" Alan asked, fiddling with his napkin. "I wanna go and talk to Fermat before he leaves."

Scott looked up at him. "Sure thing, Sprout. Just don't leave it too late or I'll have cleared up all the dishes."

"Okay." Alan hopped off his seat and headed for the exit, colliding with John as his older brother rounded he corner. Alan fell to the floor with a loud '_thunk'_, landing awkwardly on the hard ground.

"Sorry, buddy, you alright?" John asked worriedly, leaning down towards him in concern. Scott appeared beside him seconds later and picked Alan up, placing him on his feet gently and turning him around.

"You hurt?" he asked. Alan shook his head, rubbing at the twinge in his right side. Scott's eyes narrowed when he noticed this. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Scotty." Alan soothed. "I just bumped it when Johnny bashed into me. I'm fine."

Scott nodded, seemingly satisfied that Alan was in fact alive and relatively whole. He grabbed John by the arm and yanked him into the dining room, giving the eighteen-year-old a massive noogie.

"Clumsy oaf." Scott muttered fondly. Alan bit back a laugh as John moodily smoothed down his platinum blond hair and sat in the chair furthest away from Scott's. Then the youngest Tracy hurried off down the corridor, the painful twinge completely forgotten.

_I need to go and find Fermat before he and dad leave for the conferences. I'm not gonna see him for more than two days! That's forever! I wish I hadn't fallen asleep at the meeting yesterday, then I could've spent the evening with Fermat._

Alan walked quickly down passed the pool and in the direction of the Hackenbacker's small villa. Fermat rarely stayed here when Brains was away, but Alan knew that he was probably packing the last of his clothes in his real room, as apposed to being in the spare room next to Alan's where he'd been sleeping for the past few nights.

"Alan!"

The blond-haired boy looked up when he heard his name being called, and spotted his best friend descending the steps from the small villa, a rucksack slung over his shoulder.

"Hi, Fermat!" Alan greeted, giving his friend a high-five. "You ready to go, then?"

Fermat nodded, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. "Y-y-sure! I can't wait! But I'm going to m-m-miss you."

"Yeah, I'm gonna miss you too." Alan said softly. "But it's only for a few days, right? I mean, you'll be back before you know it."

Fermat smiled and nodded. "Y-your right, Alan. And when I g-g-g-return from my trip, we can race the sp-sp-sp-racing boats on the pool like we agreed, right?"

"Right." confirmed the older boy. "And mine'll win."

Fermat sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "P-p-p-most likely."

Alan hurriedly tried to smooth things over. "I was only joking, Fermat. You're just as good as I am, honest!"

Fermat beamed up at him, then suddenly looked down at his watch. "Aaw, man! I p-p-p-told your dad that I'd meet him in the hanger at s-s-s-now!"

Alan grabbed Fermat's arm, and they sprinted as fast as they could down towards the aircraft hangers, being sure to take the quickest route that was humanly possible. When they arrived, they saw that the rest of the family were already assembled beside the smaller jet plane.

"I'm taking Tracy Two with me, so that means you can use Tracy One if there's an emergency." Jeff was saying. "Tracy Two isn't as fast, but we're in no major rush to get there. Our ETA is around four hours, but I'll call when we are approaching Boston air space. Everybody happy?"

Alan and Fermat skidded to a halt beside the plane, slightly out of breath. Alan leaned against the aircraft and clutched at a stitch in his side, trying to appear as normal as possible. Jeff and the older boys smiled down at them.

"You ready, Fermat?" Jeff asked. Fermat nodded, turning to give Alan a brief hug and another high-five. The small boy then said his goodbyes to the rest of the family, before going with Gordon into the jet to be strapped in.

Jeff crouched down in front of Alan and pulled him in for a tight hug, resting his head on top of Alan's. "I'll see you in three days, son." he said, pushing the boy away at arms-length. "Now, behave yourself and do what Scott says, alright?"

Alan nodded firmly, raising his hand to his temple and saluting stiffly. Jeff chuckled and planted a kiss on Alan's forehead. "Have fun, get to bed on time, and take care of your brothers, okay?"

"Yes, dad." Alan grinned. Jeff ruffled his hair one last time, before standing up and going to say goodbye to his other sons.

"Behave yourselves, don't kill each other, do your chores, and look after Alan."he told them. "And make sure Gordon doesn't blow anything up, you know what he's like."

"Hey! I resent that!" came an angry voice from within the hatch of the plane. Gordon's copper-haired head protruded from within the aircraft. "I only did that once, and that was an accident! The fuses on those fire-crackers were faulty, they weren't meant to go off so soon!"

They all laughed, and Jeff clapped Gordon on the shoulder as he hopped out of the plane. "Whatever you say, Gordon. Take care. I'll see you in three days, boys!"

Jeff closed the hatch behind him, and Alan found himself being dragged back to a safe distance by Scott. His older brother wrapped his arms protectively around Alan's front and held him tightly as the engines of the jet fired up. The aircraft began to move away out of the hanger and down the runway, gradually picking up speed. Alan saw Scott shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

"Pathetic." the older boy muttered. "Even a G-42 Bottleneck could do better than that!"

John chuckled. "You didn't used to think that when dad taught you how to fly!" he remarked.

"I was younger then." Scott replied. "I hadn't had a taste of what _real _aircraft are like. And believe me, in comparison with my baby back at the airbase, Tracy Two is a hairdryer."

They watched the aircraft until it had soared up into the blue sky and disappeared from view. Then John ruffled Alan's blond locks in order to get his attention.

"C'mon, Sprout." he said. "You need to eat something before you waste away into nothing. D'you want me to make you cheese toasties?"

Alan turned to Scott, waiting for his older brother to give him permission. Scott's face was skeptical as he gazed at John.

"For breakfast?" he asked, looking hesitant.

"Oh, c'mon Scotty!" protested John, slinging an arm around his older brother's shoulders. "Live a little! It's only a one-off treat. Go on! Pretty please?!"

Scott laughed as John fluttered his eyelids, shaking his head in defeat. "Oh, alright then. But only if you make one for me, too."

John grinned. "Deal. Hey guys, do you want one?"

Virgil and Gordon both nodded enthusiastically. "Race you!" they shouted in unison, before sprinting off out of the hanger in the direction of the villa. Scott released his hold on Alan and gave him a little shove.

"Go on, Sprout." he urged. "Don't you wanna race?"

Alan shook his head. The twinge had only just died down again, and he didn't want to make it worse by running. _I definitely think I've pulled a muscle or something. Maybe it was that soccer match we played on the beach yesterday. I did a lot of running and stuff then. Hmmm, I'm still not hungry, but I love John's toasties. I guess I could just try one and see if my hunger comes back after that._

"You know, kiddo, I think we should plan something big for today." Scott continued, as they began walking back towards the house. "I can bring a portable communicator with me, so there's no need to stay in the house all day waiting for dad to call. What do you want to do?"

Alan shrugged. "Anything really. I just like doin' stuff with you guys. I don't mind what it is."

Scott ruffled his hair affectionately, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Then how about we take a picnic down to that great spot on the south beach. You know, the one with that big cave with the massive pool in it?"

John nodded his head eagerly. "Sounds like a great idea, bro." he commented. "We can go swimming, play a little volleyball, explore the rocks, go climbing. Yep, I like the sound of that!"

Scott grinned. "Then it's a plan." he stated. "What do you think, Alan?"

Alan shrugged again. "Sounds okay to me."

In truth, Alan didn't really feel up to doing all that much. He was strangely tired, despite the long sleep he'd had on the previous night. It wasn't utter exhaustion that he felt, it was more like a lack of energy. Still the only thing he really wanted to do was sit down and watch a movie with his brothers. However, he didn't want to spoil their plans just because he was feeling a little sleepy, so he would play along and pretend that he liked the idea.

Minutes later, John set to work in the kitchen that was attached to the dining room, cutting slices of cheese and buttering toast almost simultaneously.

"Can I do anything to help, Johnny?" Alan asked, standing at the doorway to the kitchen. John smiled down at him.

"Sure thing, Alan. That'd be great." he said kindly. "Wash your hands, and I'll find you something to do."

Alan was soon helping his older brother in laying the slices of cheese on the toast. Scott stood in the doorway and watched them fondly, whilst Gordon and Virgil took down some plates from the cupboard and set them on the counter. When John popped the tray of sandwiches under the grill, Alan sighed and leaned against the wall. He now felt as though he could eat a little something, as preparing the food had brought his appetite back.

"They're ready!" John called a few minutes later, placing a toasty onto each plate and cutting them in halves. He purposefully cut Alan's toasty into quarters, as Alan's little hands would find it easier to cope with the smaller pieces.

"Thanks, Johnny!" Alan grinned, taking the plate he had been offered and going to sit down at the table. The others joined him moments later, and soon a lively chatter arose from the older members of the table. Alan sat quietly and watched their friendly banter, nibbling on his toasty.

"Scott and I thought that we could all go for a picnic down on the south beach." John was saying to Virgil and Gordon. "That way, we could swim in that great pool inside the cave, and go bouldering on the rocks in the shallows."

"Sounds good to me!" said Gordon, taking another massive bite out of his toasty. "The current in that area can get pretty strong sometimes, though. You've gotta watch where abouts you swim."

"We'll be sticking to the shallows, Gordo." said Scott. "Not only is Alan too young to go swimming in the rift-run areas, but I don't want you to end up drowning yourself when dad isn't here. Wait until he gets back, then you can go."

Virgil laughed, shaking his head. "That's a nice attitude, Scotty." he joked. "Gordon's not allowed to kill himself when you're in charge, but he can die just as long as dad's here? You're ridiculous!"

Scott merely grinned and shrugged. "I just wouldn't want to be the one who has to give him the kiss of life!"

Gordon pulled a face. "Yeah, well the feeling's mutual." he muttered. The brothers laughed at this, Virgil clapping Gordon on the back affectionately.

Alan grimaced slightly as a nauseous feeling began to congeal in his stomach. He looked down at the last quarter of his toasty, and found that he really didn't feel like eating it any more. His other brothers had already finished eating theirs, and were standing up to clear away the plates.

"I'm full." Alan announced, picking up his plate and walking towards the kitchen. John frowned at him slightly.

"What's the matter? Didn't you like it?" he asked.

"No, it was great!" Alan hurried to assure him. "I've just had enough, that's all. D'you want it?"

"No thanks, Sprout." John said. Then he grinned and pointed to Scott. "But the bottomless-pit over there might appreciate it."

Alan smiled in return, walking up to Scott and tugging on his T-shirt. "Scotty, d'you want to finish my toasty? I'm full."

"Sure, Al, thanks." Scott replied, taking the plate from his younger brother. His picked up the quarter-toasty and placed the whole thing in his mouth. John rolled his eyes and winked at Alan. Scott chewed a couple of times and swallowed the massive mouthful.

"Careful, fatty. Too much cheese can really help to pile on those pounds!" John grinned. Scott glared at him, putting the plate down on the counter and wiping his hands on his napkin.

"That's it!" he growled. "You've had this coming to you for a long time, bro! Prepare to be annihilated!"

"Oooh! Carnage! This is gonna be good!" Gordon chuckled, as he and Virgil finished loading up the dish-washer and came to watch.

"Now Scott," John began, backing out of the room. "Don't get into a state. Too much stress, and you might just burst a fat cell."

Scott let out a war-cry and charged after John, who had sprinted off out of the room as quickly as his feet could carry him. Gordon followed close behind, leaving Virgil to wipe down the table on his own.

"When will they grow up?" he asked, more to himself than to Alan. Alan grinned and perched on the edge of a chair, hoping inwardly that his brothers would always act like this. He liked it when they weren't being serious and working on papers or school assignments, it made him feel more like a part of the family when they were doing what he was doing.

He stood up to go and find his brothers, but suddenly felt a wave of nausea pulse through him. He clutched at the side of the table and grimaced, sucking in deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to fight the bile that was rising in his throat.

"Hey, are you okay?" Virgil asked, dropping the cleaning cloth and putting an arm around Alan's shoulders. Alan nodded, standing up a little straighter as the sickness passed.

"Yeah, I think I just ate too much." he said. Virgil nodded and patted his back gently.

"Why don't you go and take a little walk?" he suggested. "It'll help to relieve the indigestion. You probably just have a build-up of excess stomach fluids and that's making you feel a little queasy."

Alan frowned at the explanation. "I have a what?"

Virgil chuckled and ruffled his hair. "Never mind, Sprout. Just go take a walk and you'll be fine. I'm talking 'medical jargon', as Gordon likes to call it."

Alan smiled and left the room, heading outside for some fresh air. Virgil had been saying complicated things like that for over a year now, as he had started taking online courses in medicine last spring. His tutor was a doctor, and a close family friend, who had agreed that it was wise to have another fully-trained medic on the island besides Brains. As Virgil had always taken a keen interest in healing practices and the study of medicine, Jeff had decided that it was only fitting for him to be the one to train as the island's medic. And, according to Virgil, he was finding the studies relatively easy.

As Alan stepped out into the sunshine, he became aware of another twinge that was growing in his right side. He rubbed it gently with his fingers, trying to alleviate the pain as he walked towards the pool. He spotted his older brothers at the waterside, and noticed that John was lying awkwardly on one of the sun loungers with Scott leaning over him.

"ALAN! HELP!" John was screaming, as Scott tickled him mercilessly. The older blond thrashed around and tried to push his brother away, but Scott was using his upper body to pin John down as his hands skimmed over ticklish ribs. Both were laughing hysterically, although John's was a little more high-pitched as he tried in vain to escape.

"NO! PLEASE! G-G-Gordon, don't just stand there! DO something!" John yelled breathlessly, glaring at his younger brother. Gordon simply lay on the floor and cried with laughter, the tears streaming down his face. Alan approached the group, stopping a few metres away and quickly thinking up a plan.

"SCOTT, SCORPION!" Alan cried loudly, pointing at a clump of bushes next to him. As though electrocuted, Scott shot up in an instant and dived toward Alan, pulling him away from the shrubbery and standing protectively in front of him.

"Run, Johnny, run!" Alan shouted. The startled blond teenager leaped to his feet, darting off around the other side of the pool and up the steps towards the villa. He stopped and turned around, still panting for breath, and grinned at his younger brother.

"Thanks, Sprout!" he called. Scott looked dumbfounded, staring from Alan to the bushes, then up at John, then at the now-empty sun lounger, then back at Alan again.

"You cheeky little devil!" he said quietly. "You really had me worried there for a second. And now you're gonna pay!"

Alan swallowed and began backing up the steps away from his grinning older brother. He didn't like the glint in Scott's eye, as he knew it didn't bode well for him. Luckily, Gordon and John both leaped in front of him and blocked Scott's path.

"If you're gonna attack Alan, you'll have to go through me first!" declared Gordon, waving a long leaf in front of him like a sword.

"And me." agreed John, crossing his arms. Suddenly, Alan's two heroes leaped towards Scott and tackled him into the pool, splashing Virgil, who had come to see what all the noise was about. Alan giggled and darted off up the steps unnoticed. Scott was too busy trying to avoid being squashed by Virgil as he launched himself into the pool, and the other two brothers were trying to drown the eldest Tracy boy, swallowing most of the water themselves as they splashed and laughed.

Alan sat down on the top step and rubbed his side, watching his brothers as they fought each other in the water. He really wasn't feeling so good now. His side ached a little more than it had done before, and he was starting to feel a bit sick.

_Maybe I should tell Scotty. Nah, I can't do that. He'd only make me go to bed. But I really don't wanna to go swimming in the caves anymore. It's such a long walk down to the south-side beach, and I'm really tired. My legs are all tired, like I've run a long way or something. But if I say that to Scotty, he'll just get worried and cancel the whole picnic, and then I will have ruined it for everybody. No, I'll just pretend that I'm fine, then Scotty can enjoy himself without getting stressed about me. And anyways, maybe the walk will make me feel better..._

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**_Will Alan begin to feel worse, or will the walk help to ease his symptoms? Will the brothers notice anything amiss, or will Alan continue to suffer in silence? Find out in the next chapter!_**

**_Okay, that's it for today folks! I managed to get this posted quicker than I thought, but I can't promise the same results tomorrow. But PLEASE REVIEW and give me your feedback on what you like or dislike about my story so far. I love to hear from you!_**

**_Until tomorrow, bye bye!!_**


	3. Chapter 3: Of Choking and Chocolate

**_Yay! Another update! Thank you so much to Lisysue85 for her friendly advice and compliments. Also, big thanks goes to criminally charmed for clearing up a couple of confusing issues for me! (And if you look back, you'll notice that the problem has been ammended - at least I hope it has). _**

**_So yeah, this chapter is for you guys! Hope you like it!_**

* * *

The walk had definitely not been a good idea. Alan now felt as though he had just run a marathon, and his side was still aching annoyingly. With every laboured step, Alan felt his energy draining. He knew his 'fuel tank' was almost on empty, and wondered how much longer he could last in the heat. The jungle was hot and humid, and Alan's cheeks felt as though they were on fire.

As if sensing his weakening body, luck finally came his way. The jungle path suddenly gave way to an open stretch of golden sand, the blue ocean spanning out as far as the eye could see.

"Thank the heavens!" exclaimed Virgil, pushing past Scott and setting his rucksack down in the shade of the jungle. "Let's put the stuff here, guys. We need to stick to the shade when we're not in the water, the sun's a scorcher today!"

"Tell me about it!" groaned John, un-clipping the roll-up mat from the back of his own rucksack and laying it out over the sand.

"Right, let's have lunch." said Scott, looking down at his watch. "It's already twelve-thirty! That route took us a lot longer than I'd thought it would."

"Well, we wouldn't have taken so long if _somebody_ hadn't tried to use the 'short-cut'." Gordon complained, plopping himself down on the mat beside Alan and kicking off his shoes. He glared at Scott angrily. "That trail took us an extra half and hour, you know! We would have been here ages ago if we'd stuck to the normal path."

"Oh c'mon, where's your sense of adventure?" Scott argued, setting down his large rucksack and unfastening the clasps.

"My sense of adventure?" Gordon cried incredulously. "Scott, there's a fine line between adventure and plain stubbornness! You refused to admit that you were lost, despite the fact that we passed the same tree three times!"

"They're _trees_, Gordon! They all look the same! And I was _not _lost!" Scott retorted. John intervened before things got out of hand, sitting in between them and holding up his arms in a gesture of peace.

"Enough." he said firmly. "Gordon, Scott wasn't lost, he just hadn't fully familiarised himself with that particular path. And besides, we're here now, there's no point in arguing about it."

Scott and Gordon did not say anything more, but went about unpacking the plastic containers from their rucksacks. Virgil took ot the plates, cups, napkins and drinks from his own, putting them in the centre of the mat as the containers of food were set down around him.

"John, what's in your rucksack?" asked Scott, a look of confusion of his face. "We've got all the food right here. Don't tell me you brought your science text books?!"

"Scott!" John complained. "I am not _that _bad! For your information, I'm carrying most of Virgil's first-aid equipment."

"How much 'first-aid' are you planning on doing, Virge?" Gordon asked sceptically, eyeing the massive rucksack with a slight frown.

"There isn't all that much stuff." Virgil replied. "What else did you put in their, Johnny?"

John grinned and winked at Alan, causing the younger blond to snicker. He knew exactly what John was hiding in his rucksack, as his older brother had imparted the secret to him just before they left the main villa.

"It's a surprise." John said coolly, although their was a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.

Gordon set down the box of cookies he'd been holding, looking up at John with a curious and excited expression on his face. "What is it?"

"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" John laughed, pushing his rucksack a little further away from the young copper-haired teenager.

"Oh, c'mon Johnny!" complained Virgil, copying Gordon's puppy-dog expression. "Just give us a little clue?!"

"Nope." John said, opening a box of sandwiches and setting them down again. "I'm not saying anything. You'll find out later this afternoon. I'll open it just before we leave, it'll give us the energy we need to walk back home again. Now, stop asking questions and tuck in."

"Fine." they relented, although neither teenager seemed ready to give in. They began their lunch, lying on their fronts on the mat and enjoying the cool sea breeze at it wafted over them.

Alan stared dully at the peanut butter sandwich Scott had given to him. He honestly wasn't hungry. He was sore, he was hot, he was tired, but he wasn't hungry at all.

"Alan, what's the matter?" John asked, noticing his younger brother's hesitation in eating the food. "Do you want a different one? There's ham and tomato, if you like."

Alan shook his head, leaning his hot head on his arms. "No thanks, Johnny. I'm not really hungry."

He saw Scott looking over at him curiously, a slight frown playing across his face. Alan cringed inwardly. _Uh-oh. Scotty's gonna think I'm sick if I don't eat something. Only problem is, I think I am sick. I don't think I can eat anything right now, I might puke it back up again. But I can't let Scotty know that I'm sick, 'cause otherwise he'll take me home and I'll have ruined the trip for everybody. I guess I'll just have to eat it, then._

"C'mon, Sprout, you're gonna need your strength for swimming and climbing later." John insisted, pushing the plate a little closer towards him. "Go on, you'll feel less tired once you've got some food in you."

Alan sighed and pushed himself up onto his elbows, before shifting into a different position entirely so that he was sitting up with his legs crossed on the mat. He picked up the sandwich and took a bite, chewing slowly and trying to ignore Scott's worried gaze.

Despite Alan's previous concerns, his stomach seemed to be beginning to settle down after the food, and his strength was rapidly returning to him. _Hmm. Maybe I was just hungry, after all. My side isn't hurting all that much anymore, so perhaps I'll be able to go swimming with the other guys after lunch._

He finished his sandwich and accepted the cup of lemonade that Scott passed to him, taking a long drink to quench his thirst. He stretched slightly, looking out across the ocean and watching the waves as they lapped gently against the rocks. The cave opening was just about visible from his position, and he wondered when they would begin to make their way towards it.

"Scotty, can we go swimming now?" Alan asked, finishing his last bite of cookie. John offered him another one from the box, but he shook his head. He was full, and didn't want to start feeling sick again.

"Not for an hour, Alan." Scott replied, starting to pack some of the empty containers back into his rucksack. "You must always wait a little while after eating, remember, or else you'll get cramp. You remember what happened to Gordon when he didn't do that?"

Gordon glared in Scott's direction and Alan snickered slightly. A few years ago, Alan and his brothers had taken one of the boats out for the day on the ocean. Gordon had spotted a small group of bottle-nosed dolphins, and had immediately dived into the sea, regardless of the fact that he had just eaten a rather filling lunch. Of course, it hadn't been long before Gordon had gotten a bad cramp and had to be rescued by Scott and John. The water-loving Tracy had been exceedingly embarrassed over the situation, especially after enduring one of Scott's paranoid lectures about "not being so darn irresponsible".

"Yeah, I remember." Alan said hurriedly, before Gordon could lash out at his oldest brother. He pulled on his trainers and fumbled with the laces. "So, what are we going to do until then?" he asked.

"We're gonna go climbing!"Scott cried happily, fastening his rucksack and standing up. "C'mon, Sprout! There are some great boulders over there that I want you to tackle!"

Alan followed Scott down the beach, his other brothers not far behind him. One of Scott's favourite past-times, apart from flying, was to go 'bouldering'. This involved climbing large rocks that were no more than about four or five metres in height, and no safety equipment was used. Of course, Alan was never allowed to climb very high, and one of his brothers was always behind him in case he fell. Alan didn't mind this too much, although he wished that he could climb as high as Scott and John so that he could stand on top of the boulders and look out across the ocean like they always did.

"Right, Sprout, up you go!" Scott said energetically, indicating one of the larger boulders. Alan immediately went to it, getting a good grip on the ledge just above him and putting his foot into a deep grove. He hoisted himself up and began to climb the rock slowly, Scott's hand resting on the small of his back to steady him.

"Nice job, kiddo!" John called, as he pulled himself up next to Alan and paused to watch him. "Grip that bit of rock just above you, the one on your left. Then you can pull yourself high enough to put your foot on the ledge. That's it, good job!"

Alan listened to his brother's advice, and was soon gaining height as he climbed steadily upwards. He reached a large, flat ledge, about half a metre in diameter, and paused momentarily to rest.

"Okay, Sprout, that's high enough!" Scott called. Alan looked down and realised that he was at least three metres above the ground. Virgil and Gordon were already passing him as they climbed, but Scott had remained on the ground to monitor his progress.

"Aaw, can't I go a little bit higher?" Alan pleaded, despite the fact that his energy was spent and his side was aching again. Scott shook his head.

"Sorry, buddy. There isn't another ledge until you reach the top, and I don't want you climbing that high until you're a bit older." he said, beginning to climb up the boulder himself. He quickly appeared at Alan's side and perched next to him. "But you did really well, buddy. I'm impressed."

Alan smiled up at him and leaned his head on Scott's shoulder. "Thanks, Scotty."

Scott smiled and ruffled his hair. "Right, I'd better get going. Stay here until I get down to the bottom again, alright? I don't want you trying to climb down on your own. Move from this spot, and so help me I'll ground you for a week!"

Although the warning was said lightly and Scott was smiling, Alan knew that his older brother would not hesitate to follow through with his threat if he was disobeyed. Alan nodded.

"Okay, Scotty. I'll stay here." he promised, shuffling backwards a little more and resting his back against the rock.

"That's my boy." Scott said fondly, giving him a brief hug. Then he swung himself around and began climbing up the rock-face again, his hands seeming to grip onto nothing as he hoisted himself up.

Alan sighed and pressed his forehead against the cool rock, glad that he sat in a shaded spot. He felt rather warm, and couldn't wait until they went into the water so that he could cool himself down.

_The sun really is hot today. Oh well, at least it'll be cool inside the caves. I wonder if Scott'll let me go exploring the other caverns with Virgil and Gordon. He doesn't usually, but we haven't been here for nearly a year now and I'm a lot older than I was last time. Maybe if I ask real nicely, he'll let me..._

It wasn't long before Scott was descending the boulder again, grinning like an idiot. He jumped the last metre and landed on the ground, bending at the knees to absorb as little of the shock as he could. He looked up at Alan and waved.

"Time to come down now, Sprout!" he called. "Remember, nice and slow. You don't want to slip and fall."

Alan turned around and carefully made his way down the boulder, being sure that he had a firm grip on the rock before he lowered his legs. He was soon on the ground beside his brother, and Scott gave him a one-armed hug.

"Good goin', squirt!" he congratulated. "You didn't even need my help. I might as well just leave! Huh, I feel so unloved!"

Scott's over-dramatic exclamation made Alan giggle, and he poked his brother in the side. "Well I love you, Scotty, even if nobody else does."

Scott smiled and ruffled his hair again. "And I love you, Sprout. Now, let's go find another boulder to climb, shall we?"

But Alan didn't really feel like climbing anymore. He was too tired, and his side ached. Except the ache had moved position slightly so that it settled on the lower right-hand side of his stomach. It wasn't very, very painful but it was still quite sore and Alan didn't want to make it any worse by over-straining it.

"You climb, Scotty. I'll watch." he said, taking a seat on a smaller rock that faced the giant boulder Scott was inspecting.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked, turning towards him with a slight frown. "What's the matter, are you hurt?"

Alan shook his head hurriedly. "No, I'm fine. I'm just really warm from all that climbing. I'll sit here and watch, if that's okay with you."

Scott shrugged. "Sure, if that's what you want." he said. "Give me a shout if you change your mind, alright?"

Alan nodded. "Okay."

Alan had quite a good time watching Scott and his other brothers as they proceeded to climb the big boulder. He wished that he felt well enough to climb with them, but he wasn't willing to risk making his stomach hurt any more than it already did. After a short while, Scott shouted something to the others and they all made their way down the boulder quickly.

"C'mon guys, let's go!" cried Gordon, bouncing on his heels and pulling John by the arm.

"Alight, fish-feet, keep your flippers on!" John chuckled, following his hyper younger brother as Gordon jogged down towards the water.

"C'mon, Al!" called Scott, beckoning for him to join them. "It's safe to go swimming now, it's been way over an hour since we had lunch. We're gonna go and find the easiest way to swim into the caves."

Alan stood up, smiling happily. _Yes! Now I can finally cool down in the water. Man, it's so hot out here! I hope the sea is nice and cool._

They all gathered around a dry area of ground near the water and removed their shirts and shoes, placing them in neat piles on the soft, golden sand. Gordon sprinted off towards the water and submerged himself in the shadows, the waves lapping over his shoulders as he lay on his front. John and Virgil laughed, shaking their heads.

"Anyone would think that he'd been deprived of water all his life!" remarked John, as the rest of the group made their way towards the water at a much slower pace.

They spent the next half-hour splashing about in the waves, Gordon doing most of the splashing in an attempt to antagonise Scott. Alan stayed at a distance from the rest of the group, crouching down in the shallow water and gripping his knees so that the waves lapped around his chin. Thankfully, the cool water was helping to reduce the heat in his arms and legs. His head, however, was still roasting as it bobbed above the water. On a couple of occasions, he closed his eyes and ducked under the water for a few seconds, just to cool off his burning cheeks.

"Hey Sprout, come here!" called Gordon, swimming in large circles around his other brothers. "Don't just stick to the shallows! Come and have some fun!"

Alan sighed and stood up, before kicking off the ocean floor and swimming towards the others. As he neared them, he lengthened his strokes in order to maintain a steady speed. The water was a lot deeper here and the waves were a little stronger than the other ones had been in the shallows.

As he brought his arm over his head again, a sudden painful twinge in his stomach made him gasp in surprise. Sadly, he mouth happened to be semi-submerged in the water at the time, and he ended up inhaling a mouthful of sea-water by accident. He clutched at his side and stopped swimming, choking uncontrollably as his trachea protested against the presence of water in his lungs. Salt water stung in his eyes as he sank under little, unable to keep himself afloat as he continued to cough mightily.

Suddenly, two strong hands were pulling him up to the surface again, dragging him over to a nearby rock. He clutched at the wet rock as he choked, feeling his rescuer's hands around waist, serving as a method of holding him up. He vaguely registered the wet copper hair of his older brother beside him, as tears streamed from his watering eyes.

"Easy, Allie, I've got you. Just cough it all up." Gordon soothed, his hands gripping Alan's hips gently but firmly to stop him from sinking under. Scott, Virgil and John suddenly clustered around him, all wearing concerned expressions.

"Alan, are you alright?" asked Scott worriedly, his hand gripping Alan's shoulder. Alan tried to say that he was fine, but the hacking coughs prevented any distingishable words from being formed. Virgil came up behind him and struck him gently between the shoulder blades in an attempt to dislodge the water. After a few moments, his attempts paid off, and Alan's choking subsided to the occasional cough.

"You okay, buddy?" asked Virgil, tipping Alan's chin up to look into his eyes.

"I-I'm fine." he croaked, then coughed again. Virgil's eyes searched his face keenly.

"You sure?" he asked softly. "What happened?"

Alan shrugged, trying to ignore the urge to rub at the pain in his stomach. "Don't know. Just breathed to early, I guess." he coughed again, his face breaking into a grimace as it made the twinge in his side a little worse.

"Alright, let's head back to shore. I think Alan's had enough excitement for one afternoon." said Scott. Alan looked up in alarm. _Oh no! Now I've gone and ruined it for everybody! They're gonna hate me!_

"Scotty, I'm fine." Alan protested. "We don't have to go back just yet. I thought we were gonna explore the caves."

"We can't, Al." said John, treading water beside him. "The currents too strong over there today. I checked it out, and I don't think it's safe for us to try swimming into the caves. If the tide came in too quickly, we wouldn't be able to swim against the current in order to get out."

Alan sighed sadly. He'd wanted to go exploring with the others. However, a part of him was glad that they would soon be heading home. He really wasn't feeling very well.

"C'mon, Sprout, I'll tow you back to shore." offered Gordon, noticing his little brother's downcast expression. "You lie on your back and I'll pull you along, 'kay?"

"Okay." Alan agreed sullenly, allowing Gordon to gently flip him over and grip him under the arms. He stared up at the blue sky as he was pulled gently through the water, squinting slightly as the bright sun shone in his eyes. When they reached dry land once again, Gordon set him down on the sand, keeping an arm about his shoulders.

"You feel kinda warm, Sprout." he remarked, putting his hand to Alan's cheek. "Must've been all that coughing, huh?"

Alan nodded quickly. "Yeah, must've been."

They dried themselves off and got dressed, Alan being careful not to stretch too much as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. After packing up the remainder of the picnic, Scott looked down at his watch.

"It's nearly three o'clock." he stated. "We'll still have ages before dinner when we get back to the house. What do you guys wanna do? Nothing too active, I think Alan needs to rest for a bit, right Sprout?"

Alan nodded slightly, trying not to rub at the pain in his stomach. _Yeah, a rest sounds just great. I might even go to sleep. I'm so tired._

"How about a movie?" John asked, looking up from where he sat rummaging in his rucksack.

"I like the sound of that!" said Gordon, eyes gleaming. "I could make us some popcorn, and we could close all the - CHOCOLATE!"

The last word was exclaimed loudly, making everybody jump. John was waving a massive bar of chocolate in front of them all, grinning slightly.

"Surprise!" he cried, opening the wrapper and snapping off a chunk. He handed it to Gordon, who just stared at it in happiness.

"But - how?" he asked, as he inspected his huge chunk of the brown candy. "I didn't think we had any chocolate left. That was why dad promised to pick up a supply from the mainland after the conferences had finished. How did you get it?"

"Magic." said John smugly, handing a piece to Virgil. Virgil snorted in amusement, popping one of the segments into his mouth and sucking on it thoughtfully. His eyes widened with pleasure and he smiled.

"Man, that tastes good." he sighed. "It's been ages since I tasted chocolate this nice. Where did you get it from? I haven't seen that brand before."

"A friend of mine, Jason, has an uncle who owns a major food company." said John. "One of the products he manufactures happens to be the best chocolate in the world, so he sends Jason a massive box of chocolate bars every week. We've been living off chocolate all term, it's great!"

"I knew it." Scott said triumphantly. "You _are _addicted!"

"Don't make fun of me, or you're not getting any more." John warned, although he was grinning from ear to ear. He snapped of another chunk and held it out to Alan. "Here you are, Sprout."

Alan shook his head. "No thanks, I don't want any."

Gordon pretended to choke on his mouthful. "Okay, so who are you and what have you done with the real Alan Tracy?" he joked. Alan smiled slightly, avoiding Scott's worried gaze.

"Go on, Alan, have some chocolate. It's really good." Virgil pressed, popping another piece into his mouth as though attempting to prove his point. Alan shook his head again.

"I'm not hungry." he said. John frowned at him critically, cocking his head to one side.

"Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed." he remarked.

"I'm fine, Johnny." Alan insisted. "I'm just a little tired."

"Then we really should be getting back." said Scott, squeezing his shoulder. "I think you've been in the sun too long, buddy, your skin is quite hot. Maybe we should wait a little while before heading back so that you can get some rest."

Alan thought for a moment. _A rest would be really nice, but it's too hot out here. I wanna rest back at the house where it's nice and cool._

"Hey, I know what to do!" Scott stated. "John, if you can carry my rucksack, I can give Alan a piggy-back home. Can you manage them both?"

John nodded. "Sure, Scott. It won't be half as heavy as before because we've eaten all the food. It's just empty boxes and a communicator, right?"

"Right." Scott confirmed. He turned back to Alan and smiled kindly. "What do you wanna do Sprout? D'you want a piggy-back home?"

Alan looked up at him gratefully. "Yes please."

Scott tossed his rucksack to John, turning around and bending down slightly so that Alan could hop onto his back. Once Alan's legs were securely around his waist, he trudged off in the direction of the jungle path.

"C'mon, slow-pokes!" he called over his shoulder. "Let's get back before the afternoon sun gets any hotter and we all melt! I'm taking the proper route this time, so don't you _dare _complain, Gordon Tracy!"

Alan smiled slightly as he clung to Scott's shoulders, leaning his weary head against his brother's back. He was so, so tired. But more than anything, he was boiling hot. Why did the sun have to shine so brightly on Tracy Island all the time? Was _one _cloud too much to ask for?!

_Maybe I'll feel better once we're back at the house. The air-conditioning will help to keep all the rooms cool, so it'll be nice to watch a movie with the other guys. And I can sit on one of the bean-bags and go to sleep if I want. Yeah, that sounds nice..._

Scott suddenly bumped him back up a little higher in order to get a better grip on his legs. Alan winced in pain as the twinge in his side protested the movement, and he felt the nausea beginning to rise again. He grimaced miserably, biting his lower lip as tears sprung to his eyes. He managed, with a great deal of effort, to keep them from falling, but the sickness did not pass.

He took a few deep breaths and leaned his burning head against Scott's back once more, silently praying that they'd reach the house before he started to feel any worse.

* * *

**_In the next chapter, Alan's brothers discover that he is ill. How will they react? Will they discover what is ailing our youngest Tracy-boy? And who will tell Jeff? Find out in the next installment!_**

**_There you are, another chapter complete. Just so you know, this story will only have about half the number of chapters that 'Smothered By Your Brothers' had. Only difference is, most of these chapters are simply longer. Anyway, hope you likes it._**

**_REVIEW PLEASE! I want to hear your opinions or advice! And PM me if you have any questions, 'kay?_**


	4. Chapter 4: Tickle Torture

**_Woo! Next chapter ready! I'm stuck in bed sick at the mo, so I'll be doing plenty of typing over the next 48 hours coz I am sooooo bored! I hope you enjoy the chapter!_**

* * *

Scott didn't like the sun. It was official. The forty-five minute trek back up to the villa was killing him, especially with the added problem of the humidity of the jungle. No sea breeze coul penetrate the thick wall of trees, so the air was hot and heavy around him as he and his brothers trudged slowly up the path.

"Scott, we should've taken the hover-bikes!" Gordon groaned, hoisting his rucksack a little higher onto his back and wiping the sweat from his forehead. "This heat is killing me!"

"I'm with you there, bro." Virgil panted, trying in vain to match Scott's pace. "Scott, can we take a break? I can't feel my legs."

Scott snorted in amusement and turned around to flash a grin at his younger brothers. He suddenly did a double-take.

"Where's Alan?" he asked worriedly. He'd set the boy down about five minutes ago so that he could give his aching shoulders a rest.

"Here." I voice called quietly, and Alan's blond head appeared through trees several metres behind the rest of the group. Scott grinned and waved the group onwards, masking his exhaustion with fake enthusiasm.

"C'mon, guys! Look alive!" he cried. "The sooner we get home, the sooner we can cool off and watch a movie."

"Where...does he get...all that energy?" Gordon panted, forcing his tired legs to move once more. John, who had waited for Alan to catch up, turned back towards the rest of the group.

"Fat reserves." he stated simply. Scott froze mid-step, turning around slowly and glowering at the speaker.

"WHAT did you say?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

"He said 'fat reserves', Scotty." Virgil informed him helpfully, leaning against a tree and wiping his face with his hand.

"Yes, thank you Virgil." Scott growled sarcastically. "I'm glad to see that you're on my side, as usual."

"I don't take sides, bro, you should know that by now." the teenager remarked calmly, glancing down at his watch. "Anyway, save slaughtering him for later. Right now, I wanna get back and have a nice, cold shower."

Alan, who had been leaning against a rock wearily, perked up when he heard this. _Ooh, a cold shower sounds nice. That'll really help me to cool off. And then I'll have a nice, long sleep on the hammock in the shade by the pool, 'cause there's always a nice breeze in that spot. Yeah, that sounds like a great idea!_

"Alan?"

Alan looked up at Scott, who stood on a raised area of path several metres in front of him. His older brother was eyeing him with a slight frown.

"Alan, d'you want another piggy-back?" he asked. "You look really tired. It's only another five minutes or so until we reach the house, so I don't mind carrying you if you want."

The small boy nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Scotty. I am getting kinda tired."

Alan winced slightly as Scott hoisted him up and onto his back, shifting uncomfortably at the sharp twinge in his side. He settled himself as comfortably as he could against his brother's shoulder, but the nauseous sensation in his stomach was making him feel miserable no matter what position he was in. He jut wanted to get home. At last, after what seemed like an eternity, the path became more familiar and the pool could be seen through the bushes up ahead.

"Yippee! Civilisation at last!" cried Gordon, dropping his rucksack and doing a running-dive into the water. Virgil, who had come to stand at the poolside, was totally and utterly drenched as the spray from Gordon's 'bomb' rose up and splashed him where he stood.

"Yuk! GORDON!" he exclaimed angrily, wiping the water off his face and arms. The copper-haired appeared above the water, grinning stupidly.

"Oops, sorry Virge." he said, insincerely. "Didn't see you there."

Scott laughed, bending down a little and releasing Alan's legs. The boy dropped onto his feet, still clutching at Scott's arm for support. The eldest Tracy son clapped his hands together to get his brothers' attention.

"Okay guys, we all need to cool off after that walk." he stated. "Everybody go take a shower and then get a drink from the kitchen, 'kay?"

There were murmurs of agreement, and the group made their way up the steps toward the main villa.

"Right, we'll meet in the movie-room in ten minutes, alright?" said John, looking at his watch. "We can make the popcorn after we've decided what movie we wanna watch."

"Okay." everybody, except Alan, agreed. They all separated off into their different bedrooms, Alan walking a little slower than the other. He really didn't feel very well at all.

_I'm just so hot. And I feel like I'm gonna puke. I don't like this, I don't wanna be sick! Scotty said he'd take me for a ride on Brain's new hover-bikes tomorrow, 'cause they're a lot faster than the old ones. But I don't wanna go on the bikes if I'm feeling sick like this. Hopefully I'll be feeling better by tomorrow._

He undressed slowly, discovering that his fingers were a little clumsy as he fumbled for the laces on his trainers. When he stepped into the shower in his bathroom, he turned the temperature dial to it's lowest setting and stood beneath the waterfall of cold droplets. The ice-cold water made him gasp and shiver at first, but when he put his burning head beneath the freezing torrent, he sighed in relief. It felt wonderful. After enduring his burning cheeks for most of the day, he was happy to find that something was helping to cool him down at last.

When his hands and feet started to feel too cold, he turned off the flow of water and stepped out of the shower. With the absence of noise from the droplets hitting the tiles, he became aware of mighty rumpus emanating from a room nearby. He paused, listening intently, and could make out Virgil's loud and desperate cries for help. He smiled. Gordon was probably torturing him in his usual fashion for something that Virgil had said. This happened on a weekly basis in the Tracy household.

Looking at his watch, he realised that the ten minutes were already up. He quickly scrubbed his hair and body dry, taking great care to only dab at his sore stomach, and grabbed some fresh clothes from his closet. As he bent down to tie his shoes, a sudden wave of nausea hit him full-force. He gasped and sat down quickly on the bed, tears springing to his eyes. And this time, he could not hold them back.

_I don't like this! I want Scotty. I really don't want to spoil their day, but I need to tell him so that he can give me some medicine or something to make me feel better. Ow, my tummy still hurts__. I won't tell Scotty about that, 'cause that's only a pulled muscle and it doesn't hurt **too** badly. But I feel really sick. Maybe Virgil has something he can give me to make it go away._

Alan brought his arm across his face and wiped the tears away, grimacing as the bile began to rise again. Standing up, he made his way on shaky legs out of his bedroom and down corridor, walking slowly towards the movie-room. He didn't understand why he felt so bad. He hadn't been sick in a long time, and the only occasions that he caught an illness was when all of his brothers had already had it. His dad had told him that it was because he had a good immune system, but Alan didn't really know what that meant. And he honestly didn't care. All he cared about was finding Scott, because his big brother would make everything alright again. He always did.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Scott ran a hand through his damp hair as he entered the movie-room with his glass of lemonade, trying to make his unruly mop look a little more presentable. For some unknown reason, his comb had magically disappeared from the table in his bedroom, leaving him with no other option than to use his fingers. Again. He had his suspicions to why the comb was not in it's usual place, but he needed proof before he retaliated.

"Hey look, it's a walking haystack!"

He turned to glare at the speaker, who was wearing an all-too-innocent expression upon his face. The young teenager smiled up at him, as Virgil and John snickered from one of the couches.

"Sorry, is something wrong bro?" asked Gordon, raising an eyebrow. "Like the hair by the way, very daring. But you might want to use one of these next time."

He threw an object towards him, which Scott caught deftly. He glanced down at it and sighed, counting to ten. It was the third time this week that Gordon had taken his comb, and his patience was wearing a little thin.

"Gordon, I'm going to say this nicely just one more time." he said, in a voice of forced-calm. "Please refrain from nicking my stuff whilst I'm in the shower!"

"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't do it again." Gordon promised. John began to cough loudly.

"Yeah, and pigs might fly." remarked Virgil. Scott saw Gordon's eyes light up as they had done the previous evening.

"Really?" he asked. "And how do they-"

"NO!" Scott yelled, clamping a hand over Gordon's mouth. "We are NOT having this discussion again, d'you understand? Unless you want to find out what it feels like when a fish gets thrown into the laundry-machine."

"How would you show him that?" asked John, grinning at the look of anger on Gordon's face as he threw Scott's hand off his mouth.

"I'd put _him_," he pointed at Gordon and smirked. "In the laundry-machine. Simple, yet effective"

Virgil chuckled, sifting through a pile of movies at his feet. Scott came to sit in an arm-chair beside them, leaning over so that he could inspect the selection in his brother's hands.

"Don't forget, it has to be suitable for Alan to watch." he said. "We can watch another movie with a higher rating once the Sprout's gone to bed this evening."

"What about this one?" asked Gordon, holding up 'Finding Nemo'. Virgil went over to him and took the DVD out of his hands, and Scott took the opportunity to nick his seat on the couch.

"This one's ancient." Virgil remarked. "And the fish suck."

Gordon's moth made an 'O' shape, and John and Scott tried to hide their snorts of laughter behind their hands. Virgil had just made a very big mistake.

"Sorry, what was that?" asked Gordon innocently. Virgil threw the DVD back onto the pile, crouching down so that he could inspect the others.

"I said the fish suck." Virgil replied calmly, not realising the dangerous water he had just entered into so blindly. "It's annoying and cheesy and - and just plain boring, really. They should have killed off that blue fish, she drove me crazy the entire time."

Gordon glowered and moved around until he was kneeling behind Virgil. With a wink at his older brothers, who sat clutching their sides and shaking with silent laughter on the couch, Gordon extended the index finger of both hands. Without warning, he jabbed them into Virgil's ribcage. His brother let out a surprised yelp, twisting around to glare at Gordon. But the copper-haired Tracy hadn't finished yet. He extended all ten fingers and ran them quickly over Virgil's sides, eliciting gasps and squeals from the older brother.

"Take it back, Virge!" Gordon demanded, grinning as Virgil dropped onto his back and writhed around on the floor.

"Ta-take what back - eeek! What did I - NO! - What did I do?" he gasped, laughing uncontrollably as Gordon's fingers wriggled over his stomach.

"You insulted one of the best Pixar movies that was ever created!" cried Gordon, laughing as Virgil let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal. "Now, say you're sorry and I might stop."

"Okay! OKAAAAY!" Virgil screamed. "I-I'm sorry!"

Gordon paused for a moment, regarding Virgil as he gasped for breath on the ground. "That's better." Gordon said. Then he attacked his brother with his ten fingers once again, and Virgil laughed even louder than before.

"Hey! Y-you said you'd STOP!" he cried, twisting around in an attempt to escape. Gordon smirked evilly.

"Correction - I said I_ might_ stop."

"Scott! Please! Get him off me!" Virgil begged, tears of laughed leaking down from the corners of his eye. Scott composed himself long enough to sit up and take a deep breath.

"Sorry, little bro. I don't take sides, you should know that by now." he stated calmly. John, who had only just managed to stop laughing, dissolved into hysterics once again, falling on top of Scott as the laughter threw him off-balance.

"Gordon! NO! Stop! Please?" Virgil cried breathlessly, his words barely distinguishable as he laughed uncontrollably. "I give up, you win! Just stop! NOOOO! GOOORDO! Please, no more!"

Gordon smiled in satisfaction, and with one final jab at his brother's ribs, sat back on his heels to admire his handy-work. Virgil lay on the floor and gasped for breath, grinning despite his exhaustion.

"You...are such...a bully!" he panted, heaving himself up into a sitting position and wiping his streaming eyes. Scott shook his head and smiled, pushing John off his stomach. The older blond was still laughing hysterically, and this sparked off Gordon's chuckles once more.

"Look what you've gone and done to poor John!" exclaimed Virgil standing up and putting a 'comforting' hand on his brother's shoulder. "He's traumatized for life!"

This only made John laugh harder, clutching at his sides and screwing his face up. Gordon shook his head solemnly.

"I think he's beyond saving." he remarked steadily. The room filled with laughter once more, and all anger over stolen combs and wounded pride was forgotten in an instant. Once they had composed themselves, they all sat down and began sifting through the piles of DVDs once more.

"Alan's taking a long time." John said, looking at his watch. "Maybe he fell asleep in the shower or something."

"We'll give him another five minutes." Scott stated. "He's probably just doing things a little bit slower because he's so tired. Who wants to bet that he'll fall asleep before the movie's over?"

All the occupants of the room raised a hand, then chuckled together. From their experience, Alan only had two physical states; extremely energetic or exceedingly tired. And it didn't take him long to hop from one to the other.

Scott leaned back in his armchair and sighed, his fingers tracing the small scar on his left knee. He'd gotten that one playing soccer in high school, during one of the big games at the end of the term. One of the opposition, furious at Scott for scoring another goal against them, had tackled him into the sidelines and out onto the gravel. The only problem was, the weight of both Scott and the other player had been supported by Scott's right knee as they skidded. It was safe to say that there had been a fair amount of blood spilt on the pitch that game. He had needed stitches and a skin graft glued over the wound, but he'd won the team their match. And what's more, the wound had healed surprisingly well. Even the doctors had been astounded at how nicely it had cleaned itself up. The only reminder that was left was a white scar the size of a watch-face. But Scott didn't mind the mark, it was just a trophy to signify what he had accomplished that day.

Unknown to them, Alan Tracy stood in the doorway to the room, leaning against the frame and trying to brush away his tears. He had seen and heard the commotion caused by his older brothers, and felt decidedly guilty about telling Scott that he wasn't feeling well. All of his brothers seemed so happy, and he knew that they would start to stress and worry if they thought that he was sick. Alan didn't know what to do.

_I need to tell them what's wrong. Dad will be upset if he finds out that I've kept it a secret, like when I broke my arm last summer. He told me that it's important to tell somebody when I'm not feeling well, just in case I'm very sick or something. But I don't want them all to worry over me! Maybe I can just tell Scotty, and the others won't notice. Or maybe I could watch the movie with them and it will make me feel better. Yeah, I'll try that first. And if I still feel sick when the movie's finished, I'll tell Scotty and he can make me feel better._

His mind made up, Alan scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands to get rid of any traces of his tears. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room, trying not to grimace as another twinge of pain caught him off-guard. It would be fine. They wouldn't notice as long as he didn't move too quickly or make himself feel sick.

There was no need for his brothers to find out just yet.

* * *

**_What happens when Alan starts to feel a lot worse during the movie, and he can no longer keep it hidden from his brothers? How will they react? Will Alan keep his sore stomach a secret, or will he tell the truth about his symptoms? Find out is the next chapter!_**

**_There you are, another chapter completed for you all! I know I said at the end of the last chapter that Jeff would be in this one, but I decided to put of that phone call until Alan is a little worse. That means more stress for poor old Jeff! Oh well, he's the one who decided to have five sons, not me!_**

**_REVIEW PLEASE! And thank you everybody for all the positive feedback and compliments you have given to me, they made me feel so happy! Until next time - bye!_**


	5. Chapter 5: Rock, Paper, Laser Rifles

**_Okay, get ready for a dose of brotherly fluff! I am feeling in a very fluffy mood at the moment coz my older brother just took another day off work so that he could spend time with me until I'm better, isn't that nice?! So yeah, my brother Mike gets this chapter dedicated to him!_**

**_Thank you all so much for your reviews, they are definitely the best medicine! Enjoy the chapter, my dears!_**

* * *

Alan walked towards his brothers quietly, trying to remain unnoticed. Naturally, this plan failed.

"There you are, Sprout!" said Virgil, looking up from the DVD in his hand. "We were starting to wonder if the flying pigs had kidnapped you."

Gordon chuckled, throwing cushion in his older brother's direction. However, Virgil caught it before it hit his face and swung it around his head. In a swift movement, he brought it crashing down on John's chest, taking the older blond Tracy by surprise.

"Ow! Hey, what was that for?!" he demanded sulkily, wrestling the cushion from Virgil's grasp and whacking his younger brother repeatedly with it.

"For being blond?" Gordon offered lightly, looking up from where he lay spreadeagled in front of a pile of DVDs. John stopped hitting Virgil, and instead lobbed the cushion at the laughing copper-haired teenager on the floor.

Alan smiled slightly at his brother's antics, shaking his head. He took a seat on the end of the couch next to Virgil, as this was the spot nearest to Scott where he felt a little safer. He stared at his hands, trying not to make eye-contact with any of his brothers in case his eyes were still red from crying. He was now contemplating telling his older brother that he didn't feel well _before_ the movie started. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to last until the end of the movie, as the horrible sick feeling was just getting worse.

"Hey Al, any preferences to what you wanna watch?" asked Virgil, indicating the pile of DVDs on the floor. Alan shook his head wordlessly, not trusting himself to open his mouth. He saw Virgil frown at him slightly, and he looked away before his older brother noticed the tears that were beginning to spring into his eyes once again.

_I can't do this. I want it to stop. They'll only find out soon enough, anyway, so I might as well tell them. But I don't want them to be worried about me. Oh, why did this have to happen to me?_

Virgil suddenly got up from the couch and joined Gordon on the floor, commencing a match of 'rock-paper-scissors' to decide who was going to pick the first movie out of the small selection they had formed. John knelt down beside them and began to referee.

"Ready?" he asked. "On three. One - two - three!"

Virgil let out a triumphant cry. "Ha! Rock blunts scissors!"

Gordon frowned, then fluttered his eyelids at his older brother. "Best of three?"

Virgil sighed, but then grinned and nodded. "Alright."

"Okay." John scooted a little closer to the pair. "One - two - three!"

Gordon's hand was held out flat, and Virgil's was curled into a fist. Gordon punched the air victoriously. "Yes! Paper wraps rock!"

John grinned and leaned in even closer. "Okay, guys, this is the decider! The winner gets to pick the movie. Ready? One - two - three!"

Virgil hand formed a 'rock', but Gordon's hand formed the shape of a gun. John and Virgil frowned at it, trying to decipher what exactly it was.

"Ha, I win!" grinned Gordon. "Laser rifle incinerates rock!"

John chuckled, slapping Gordon upside the head. Virgil frowned and tried to figure out what had just taken place.

"Laser rifle?" he repeated slowly. Gordon nodded proudly.

"Yup. Unstoppable. I win!"

John shook his head and slapped Gordon upside the head again. "No, we'll do a rematch." he said firmly, although he was still smiling. "The game is called 'rock-paper-scissors' not 'rock-paper-laser rifles'."

Gordon shrugged, but consented to the rematch, laughing at Virgil's confused expression. Virgil had never quite grasped the concept of cheating.

As Alan watched the match groggily, he felt a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw that Scott had leaned over from where he was sitting in the armchair beside the couch. His eldest sibling wore a concerned frown, and his eyes were searching Alan's face keenly.

"Hey buddy, are you feeling okay?" he asked softly, and Alan felt his throat tightening as he tried to keep his emotions in check. But he was exhausted, he was hot, he felt sick and his stomach hurt. As hard as he tried, he could not keep the tears from pooling in his blue eyes. He turned away and brushed his arm across his face, and wiping at the hot tears that had been threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"What's the matter, kiddo? Are you alright?" asked Scott worriedly, his arm encircling Alan's shoulders as he leaned closer over the end of the couch. Alan bit his bottom lip as it began to tremble.

_Oh no. He's worried. And the others are gonna realise in a minute, too, then they'll all be worried. But man, I feel so sick! I just wanna make it stop!_

He clamped his mouth shut even tighter as the bile began to rise once more. He could feel his cheeks burning hot, and his eyes brimmed with tears again. He wanted to cry, but not in front of his brothers like this. I mean, they never cried when they felt sick, so why should he need to?

Scott stood up and sat in the space beside Alan, noticing that his other brothers had stopped their game and were watching the youngest Tracy with concerned expressions.

"Allie, what's wrong?" he asked softly, putting his arm around Alan again and rubbing the shoulder gently. Alan took a deep, shuddering breath.

"It's nothing, Scotty. I'm okay." he said quietly, but his voice trembled slightly as he spoke. Scott felt his heartbeat quicken, as it always did when one of his younger brothers was hurt or upset.

"Alan, it's not 'nothing'. " he said softly, putting a finger under Alan's chin and tilting the boy's head up towards him. "Anything that makes you this upset is definitely _not _nothing. Now, please tell me what's wrong. It's alright, buddy, you can talk to me."

Alan's eyes brimmed with tears again, and he put his small arms around Scott's waist, leaning against him. "I don't feel so good, Scotty." he murmured miserably, burying his head in the crook of Scott's arm.

Scott exchanged worried glances with the rest of his brothers, who had wisely chosen to remain silent. They all knew that Alan did not like to show weakness, and, if their father wasn't around, Scott was the only person apart from Virgil to whom he would admit when he was sick or hurt.

"You don't feel so good?" Scott repeated gently. He carefully scooped Alan into his arms and cradled him on his lap, his hand rubbing soothing circles onto the boy's back. "Why? What's the matter, Sprout?"

Alan leaned his head on Scott's shoulder and blinked back tears. "Feel sick." he whispered.

Scott raised a hand and put it to Alan's forehead, only to withdraw it a second later in surprise.

"Damn, you're burning up!" he exclaimed softly. John frowned at him, mouthing 'language', but Scott ignored him. He turned to Virgil with a worried frown. "Virge, he's definitely got a fever. D'you think he spent too long in the sun?"

Virgil came to crouch down in front of Scott's knees, reaching up a hand to feel Alan's forehead for himself. He winced sympathetically, withdrawing the hand and rubbing Alan's leg soothingly.

"D'you feel all sleepy, Sprout?" he asked. Alan nodded glumly, blinking furiously as more tears tried to creep into the corners of his eyes. Virgil looked thoughtful for a moment, before looking up at Scott with serious expression. "I think it might be heat exhaustion. He's got a fever, and nausea is a common side-effect of becoming overheated when you haven't consumed enough sugars. Go get him into bed, and I'll be there in a moment."

He turned to John and Gordon. "Gordo, can you fetch my medical encyclopedia for me? It's the big one on the desk in my room. John, can you bring up a glass of water and something sugary from the kitchen. I don't care what it is, as long as it's sweet and edible."

Gordon nodded and jogged out of the room. John frowned slightly at his instructions, but didn't argue with his younger brother and followed Gordon at a slower pace. Virgil turned back to Scott.

"See if you can cool him down a bit." he said. "Lower the thermostat in his room by a couple of degrees and stick a fan on or something. Anything to make him feel more comfortable. I'm just gonna go and fetch the med-kit from the infirmary, and then I'll be straight back up here. Okay?"

Scott nodded, slightly shocked by his younger brother's ability to take charge in a medical situation. It appeared that Virgil's on-line training was paying off. Scott watched the younger man leave the room, then turned to look down at his youngest brother once again.

"C'mon, little buddy." he said gently. "Let's get you into bed. You'll feel better soon, I promise."

Alan smiled slightly, relief flooding through him now that Scott knew he wasn't feeling well. Scott would make everything alright again, Alan was sure of that fact.

"D'you wanna walk?" he asked softly. Alan nodded his head, slipping off Scott's lap and standing shakily to his feet. Scott kept an arm around his shoulders as they made their way slowly towards his bedroom, and Alan leaned into him as they walked. He vaguely registered stepping into his room, then Scott pushed him down onto his bed so that he sat facing his older brother.

"Allie, why don't you get into your PJs, and I'll go to the end of the hall and try to lower the temperature of your room, okay?" he asked, kneeling down in front of Alan and raking his fingers through the soft blond hair that was still slightly damp from his shower. "And I'll fetch the fan from my room so that you can cool down a bit. Would you like that?"

Alan nodded again, feeling too exhausted to do anything else. Scott gave his cheek a soft caress, and then walked quickly out of the door. Alan kicked off his trainers and pulled his T-shirt over his head, his eyes stinging all the while from a combination of fatigue and tears. He hissed through his teeth in pain when, in pulling down his shorts, his hands pressed against his sore stomach. It wasn't all of his stomach that was hurting, just the lower right-hand side. That was the one thing that Alan could not understand. Usually, when he had a stomach-ache, it was in a different place. This was why he knew that it was probably just a pulled muscle or something like that.

His limbs felt too weak to do anything, and it seemed to take an eternity to put on his pyjamas and lay down on top of the covers. (Going under the covers was definitely out of the question, he was already too warm.) A few moments later, Scott entered the room. He carried a large blue fan, which had a model fighter jet attached to a small pole the top. Alan smiled. That was Scott's favourite fan, because it had been the last present his mother had given him before she died. He knew that Scott took great care of the object, and still used it frequently when the weather was particularly hot - like it was today.

"Here you go, Sprout." Scott smiled, setting the fan down on Alan's desk so that it faced the bed. He flicked the switch, and a very faint humming began to emanate from the contraption. Alan's smile widened as the fighter jet started to 'fly' around the fan in a small circle, the pole attached to the aircraft rotating as the fan whirred continually.

"Okay Sprout, let's take a look at you." said Virgil cheerfully, as he walked into the room and set the med-kit down beside the bed. Scott pulled up a chair and sat beside Alan's head, his fingers playing with the blond hair gently. Virgil perched on the edge of the bed and unzipped his bag.

"Right, can you just sit up for me a second, kiddo?" asked Virgil. Alan obediently pushed himself up and leaned against his headboard, looking utterly exhausted from the effort. Virgil produced a thermometer from his med-kit. "I just need to check your temperature, Sprout. Open up!"

Alan eyed the device warily. He wasn't certain that opening his mouth was such a good idea, given his current physical state._ What if I end up puking all over the place? And besides, why does he have to take my temperature? He already knows that I have a fever, he said so before. Why does he need to know the exact number? No, I'm not gonna open my mouth. I really do think I'm gonna puke on him if I do._

Alan shook his head and clamped his mouth firmly shut as he felt the bile beginning to rise again. Scott sat beside him on the bed and put an arm around his shoulders. "C'mon, Sprout, we need to take your temperature."

Alan shook his head again, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging them. _They don't understand! I might puke if I open my mouth!_ Fresh tears formed in his blue eyes and he bit his trembling bottom lip.

"Hey," Scott soothed, scooping Alan up in his arms and settling the boy on his lap once again. "Hey, it's alright buddy. Don't be like that. It's alright, I'm here." He gently managed to unwrap the boy's arms from around his knees, and Alan clung to him instead. Scott glanced up at his other brother and frowned. "Virge, maybe you should find an alternative method of taking his temperature. This is just making him more upset. Where's the aural thermometer?"

"Down in the infirmary." replied Virgil. "I could go and get it if you like."

Scott smiled and nodded. "Thanks."

Virgil looked at his younger brother for a moment, feeling his forehead gently. "Allie, I'm gonna go get the other thermometer, okay? The one you put in your ear. Is that what you want?"

Alan smiled in relief and nodded. _Yes! Now I don't have to open my mouth! I knew that Virge and Scotty would understand, I just knew it._

Soon after Virgil had exited the room, both Gordon and John entered into it. Gordon set a huge book down beside the fan on the desk, stretching his fingers and wincing.

"Man, that encyclopedia ways a ton!" he complained, perching on the edge of the desk. He regarded the position in which Alan was sitting on Scott's lap, and raised a questioning eyebrow that asked _'Is he alright_?'.

"Where's Virgil?" John inquired, setting down a glass of water and a bar of chocolate on the bedside table. Alan raised his head to look at the objects and blanched. _Oh no. They don't expect me to eat anything, do they? I already wanna puke, I won't be able to eat chocolate!_

"He went down to get the aural thermometer." Scott replied softly, his hand stroking Alan's hair. "He'll be back in a minute."

Alan snuggled closer into Scott's chest and closed his eyes. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep. But his stomach was still hurting quite a bit and the pain was keeping him from being entirely comfortable in his older brother's arms. However, with the soft 'whirr' of the fan in the background and the calming way in which his brother was rubbing his back, Alan felt himself being pulled towards the land of painless slumber. He relaxed and let out a small sigh, happily allowing his body to embrace sleep.

He felt something cold being placed into his ear, and he yanked his head away, wrenching his heavy eyelids open. Virgil was kneeling beside the bed, holding a strange object and looking slightly apologetic.

"Sorry, Sprout, didn't mean to make you jump like that." he said softly, extending the object towards Alan's ear again. The boy turned away and tried to avoid the thermometer, but Scott gently held Alan to head to his chest, allowing Virgil to place the tip in his ear once more.

"It's okay, Sprout, calm down." he soothed, his thumb massaging the side of Alan's head as it was held in place. Alan stopped squirming and relaxed in Scott's hold, only to give another startled jump when the thermometer let off a shrill '_beep_' in his ear. Virgil removed the offending contraption and peered at the numbers.

"How high is it, Virge?" asked Gordon, shifting his position on Alan's desk so that he was more comfortable. Virgil glanced up at him, before resetting the device and returning it to the med-kit.

"It's not too high." he said. "But it's still a fever." He picked up the glass of water on the bedside table and handed it to Scott. "Make him drink this, I need to check something up in my encyclopedia."

Alan stared apprehensively at the glass, trying to determine whether or not he would attempt to drink any of it. Scott sat him up a little straighter and extended the glass towards him, so Alan swallowed his fears and took it in his trembling hands. As he raised it to his lips, he was aware of Scott's hand still holding the bottom of the glass firmly. Clearly, his older brother did not trust Alan's shaking fingers not to slip on the wet glass. And, in truth, neither did Alan.

He sipped on the cold fluid, forcing himself to swallow each mouthful. After a few moments, he pushed the glass away.

"C'mon, buddy, you need to drink it all." Scott insisted gently. "It'll make you feel better."

Alan shook his head firmly and turned to hide his face in Scott's shirt. Scott pulled him closer and rubbed his back gently.

"It's alright, Scott, he doesn't have to drink it all at once." said Virgil, coming to kneel beside the bed once more. "I've looked it up in the encyclopedia, and it sure sounds like heat exhaustion. So as long as he gets some rest and finishes the water later on, he should be fine. Let him have a little nap first. He'll probably feel better after that."

Alan nodded_. Yeah, a nap sounds like a good idea. I'm so tired. And that water has helped my sick feeling a little bit, even though I don't think I can drink any more. Maybe I'll feel a lot better after taking a little nap_.

"Alright, kiddo, we'll let you go to sleep for a little while." said Scott, standing up from the bed and gently laying Alan down upon it. He pulled up the chair and sat beside him, his fingers raking through Alan's blond hair.

"Have a nice sleep, Alan." John said softly, coming to stroke Alan's cheek with the fingers of one hand. "Hope you feel better when you wake up."

Gordon and Virgil repeated John's sentiments, each giving Alan a reassuring smile and a gentle caress. When all three of them had left the room, Scott turned back to his baby brother and smiled.

"You just get some rest, okay?" he instructed gently. "I'll stay here with you, don't worry. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Alan smiled at him and felt his eyelids closing. Suddenly, he wrenched them open again. Something was missing.

"Where's cocoa?" he asked, looking around his bed.

Scott smiled affectionately at the question, leaning down to retrieve the stuffed bear from where it had fallen onto the floor. Handing it to his baby brother, he felt his heart warming as he watched the small boy wrap his arms around the toy. He knew that this behaviour would not continue for much longer. Alan was growing up quickly, and it would not be long before teddy bears were considered to be too childish by the young boy. But for now, Scott could bask in his little brother's innocence.

"Thanks, Scotty." Alan whispered, his eyes drifting closed. He turned onto his stomach to get into a more comfortable position, and immediately let out a soft yelp.

"Hey, what's the matter? Are you alright?" Scott asked worriedly, leaning forward over the small boy as Alan flipped onto his back once more.

"Yeah, I'm okay." the child replied. "Just feel a bit sick."

Scott remained concerned, but did not press the matter. "Go to sleep then, buddy." he soothed, running a hand over Alan's arm. "I'll stay here with you. If I'm not here when you wake up, I'll be just down the hall in the other room, talking to the guys. Alright?"

Alan nodded wearily, snuggling into the soft pillow and hugging his bear tightly against his chest. His stomach was a little more painful now. He had momentarily forgotten about it when he turned onto his front, and the sharp twinge of pain in his right side had been a rather unpleasant reminder.

_At least I don't feel all that sick anymore. Maybe I'll be completely better when I wake up. Ow, my tummy hurts! I hope that gets better soon. Man, I'm really warm. Scotty said he had turned the temperature of my room down for me. Why is it still so hot in here, then?_

He felt himself being dragged downwards by the welcoming comfort of sleep, and he embraced it, knowing that he would not be able to feel his pain in the land of dreams. His last thoughts were of his older brother, of how much he liked the way that Scott was stroking his hair. Before he allowed the warm waters of slumber to wash over him, he felt Scott lean over him and plant a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Sleep tight, kiddo." he whispered.

Alan obeyed his brother's soft instruction and slipped quietly into the darkness, oblivious to the danger that was fast approaching the peaceful tranquility of the island.

* * *

**_What happens when Alan's symptoms begin to worsen? Will his brothers manage to work out what is wrong, or will Virgil unknowingly make another misdiagnosis? What will the boys do when they can't reach Jeff over the phone? And will Alan's stomach pains become too much for him to keep a secret? Find out in the next chapter!_**

**_Okay, all finished for today! I hope you liked the chapter, I certainly enjoyed writing it!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW - all you guys gave me excellent feedback last time and I really appreciated it! Until tomorrow, then! Bye!_**


	6. Chapter 6: Just a Stomach Bug

**_Okay, chapter six coming up! This chapter begins with Jeff, and it takes place shortly after the events of the last chapter occurred. Got it? Okay, enjoy! Oh, and a happy birthday to genbo!_**

**_Consider this chapter to be your birthday present, genbo! I hope you like it and have a great day!_**

* * *

Jeff Tracy was not pleased. He tried to keep his temper in check as he addressed the younger man in front of him.

"Is this strictly necessary?" he asked. "I'm here of official business. I even have the invitation from Dr. Edwards here in my pocket, if you'd like to see it. There's really no need for all of this."

"I'm sorry, sir." replied the man, and he truly appeared to be apologetic. "But it's for your own security as well as for the security of the topic of conversation. I promise, your communications devices will be kept safe and sound until the conference is over."

Jeff tried not to sigh, as he so desperately wanted to. _'Communications devices'? Why can't he just call them cell phones? Why does everything have to be so darn formal around here?_

"It's not the safety of my cell phones that I'm worried about." Jeff said, rather crossly. "It's the fact that my children won't be able to reach me if there's an emergency. I've left my five sons at home, and they're expecting me to leave my private cell phone switched on at all times."

"You will have the phones returned to you the minute that the conference is over." the man assured him gently.

"But this conference is being held over dinner, and you surely understand how long an affair that will be, don't you? It may not finish until the late hours of the evening, especially if a debate arises. I don't give a damn if my cell phone rings in the middle of the guy's speech! My sons take priority over business affairs."

The man stood firm, but his face was sympathetic. "I truly am sorry, sir, but nobody is allowed within the hall unless they have been screened for electronic devices. They won't even let you through the doors at this rate. Security has been tightened this year because of the information leak that occurred last time this particular conference was held."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "Somebody who wasn't supposed to be here relayed confidential information to an unauthorised party, right?" he asked. The man looked from left to right, before nodding his head ever so slightly. He clearly wasn't supposed to be imparting this information to Jeff.

"Now sir, I understand the concern you are feeling about your sons." the man continued. "I have two small boys at home myself. But surely your children have been given another contact number, should an emergency occur?"

Jeff relaxed slightly and nodded. "Yes, you're right. A friend of mine is available to come and get me if the boys can't reach my cell. And there's only a small chance that something will happen, I suppose. Oh, all right. Here you are."

He removed three cell phones from different pockets in his suit; his general cell, his work cell, and his 'private' emergency cell. He switched each phone off and dropped them into a security holding box with a resigned sigh. The young man was right, he had given Scott another emergency contact number. David Walker, a very close family friend, had been holding conference earlier that day. It was he who had offered to take Fermat to the museum whilst Jeff and Brains were busy. Jeff was certain that they were having a whale of a time, as both David and Fermat were very fond of science.

Jeff trusted David with his life, and with the secrets of International Rescue. It was David who had helped to design the specifications for Thunderbird 1, David who had introduced Jeff to the English secret agent Lady Penelope, and it was David who had been there to support him throughout his grief after Lucy's tragic death.

_If something does happen on the island, Scott will be able to call Dave. And Dave will know where to find me. Yes, there's nothing to worry about. I very much doubt that something will go wrong within the next four hours, anyway. I'm just being paranoid._

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Scott regarded his baby brother as he slept peacefully on top of the duvet, his brown teddy bear held tightly to his chest. He'd been asleep for nearly three hours now, as Scott hadn't had the heart to wake him at dinner-time. If Alan was hungry when he woke up, he could have the pizza they had saved for him in the kitchen. But for now, he would let the boy sleep. Alan's face was relaxed and angelic, wrapped up in innocent child-like slumber. Scott could often be found watching over Alan like this, even when the boy wasn't sick. In the weeks following his mother's tragic death, he'd found comfort in the knowledge that Alan was safe from harm as he slept peacefully. It had calmed him then, and it still calmed him now. His little brother could not feel the nausea or the pains when he was asleep, and that gave Scott comfort. He hated it when his younger brothers were suffering.

The door opened, and a brown-haired figure was revealed to be standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Scott." said Virgil, stepping into the bedroom. "How is he?"

"Asleep." Scott confirmed softly, not taking his eyes off the rising and falling of Alan's chest.

"Man, that kid must have been exhausted." Virgil smiled, crouching down beside the bed and taking the aural thermometer out of his med-kit. He gently slipped the tip into Alan's ear. At the _'beep'_, Alan began to stir and opened one blurry eye.

"Virge?" he inquired groggily. Virgil removed the thermometer and smiled down at him.

"Hey, Sprout." he said softly. "Sorry for waking you. I was just checking your temperature."

He glanced down at the reading, and frowned slightly. "What the...?" he began, a look of confusion passing over his face.

"What is it?" asked Scott softly, trying to keep the worry from his voice for Alan's sake.

"His temp's up by a whole degree." Virgil informed him. "But - but that can't be right. The heat exhaustion should be wearing off by now. And his temp definitely _shouldn't _be going up. We've gotten him out of the sun, and we've cooled the room down so - so his temp should have returned to normal!"

"Maybe it's not heat exhaustion, then." suggested Scott.

Virgil nodded, turning back to Alan and smiling kindly. "How're you feeling, buddy?" he asked softly.

"Sick." Alan whispered, hugging the bear closer and grimacing. Scott began stroking his hair softly, and Virgil leaned in closer.

"And anything else?" he asked. "Headache, stomach ache, sore throat, earache?"

Alan did not reply. He was too busy trying to breathe deeply through his nose and quell the sudden wave of nausea that had washed over him. _Just need to breathe. I'm not gonna puke, I just have to breathe. On no - I'm...I'm gonna puke. I really think I am this time, it's not going away!_

He sat up quickly, ignoring the sharp twinge in his side, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Stumbling right passed his flabbergasted older brothers, he staggered into the bathroom and up to the toilet. Leaning over the bowl, he gripped the edges of the seat and felt his stomach lurch violently. Tears streamed down his cheeks from his watering eyes as the acid came up, stinging the back of his throat and making his head pound. He didn't like this one bit.

Scott and Virgil had been momentarily shocked when Alan suddenly darted out of the room. However, when they heard the sounds of him retching in the bathroom, they leaped to their feet and followed him in. Scott knelt down beside Alan, rubbing the small of his back as the boy vomited again. Virgil stood on the other side, putting a hand on Alan's shoulder and wetting a flannel under the tap with the other hand.

"It's alright, Sprout." Scott soothed, trying to comfort the distraught ten-year-old as he continued to heave into the toilet bowl. "Just let it all out. You'll feel better after that. That's it, it's alright."

Alan sat back from the toilet when the urge to hurl had passed, his blue eyes shining with tears. Scott pulled the flush and Virgil handed the wet flannel to his baby brother, allowing the boy to wipe his face.

"Scotty, I don't feel so good." he moaned softly, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. Scott bent down and scooped Alan up into his arms.

"C'mon, buddy." he said gently, standing up and cradling Alan to his chest. "Let's get you back into bed."

At the bathroom door he nearly collided with Gordon and John, who had clearly been standing there for some time.

"Is he alright?" asked Gordon worriedly. Scott didn't answer, but stepped into the bedroom and set Alan down on the bed. Alan grabbed onto of his teddy bear again, holding the stuffed toy close and sniffing miserably.

"It's okay, Sprout." Scott soothed, perching on the bed beside the boy and running his hand over Alan's arm. "Just relax, I'm here. It'll be alright."

Virgil emerged from the bathroom and leaned against the door-frame, a look of contemplation written across his features.

"Okay," he said seriously. "It's _not_ heat exhaustion."

"It's not?" asked Gordon worriedly, and Scott noticed the concerned frown tugging at the teenager's brow.

"No, it's not." Virgil confirmed. "Heat exhaustion causes a significant rise in body temperature, followed by dizziness, disorientation, severe nausea, increased fatigue, headaches, blurred vision - need I go on? Alan has only displayed a couple of these symptoms so far, and that plus the fact that his temperature is _increasing_ instead of decreasing leads me to believe that it's not heat exhaustion."

"So what d'you think is wrong with him?" asked Scott quietly, returning his gaze to the bed. He smiled slightly when he saw that Alan had fallen back asleep, his flushed face calm and peaceful once more. Virgil sighed and shrugged.

"I have no idea." he admitted softly. "It might just be a stomach bug or something, that would explain the fever and vomiting. My friend, Chris, had a type of stomach flu on the last day of term. He might have passed it onto me, and _I_ might have given it to Alan."

"But Al never gets sick." said Scott. "Not unless it's something that we've all had, and then he ends up getting even more sick than the rest of us. But if Alan's sick, why haven't we all caught it?"

"Don't know." Virgil sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The incubation period for stomach viruses can last up to two weeks, so maybe we just haven't started experiencing the symptoms yet."

"How long does this stomach flu last?" asked John, perching on the end of Alan's bed and stroking the boy's leg gently.

"Chris called me the next day and said that he was feeling a whole lot better." said Virgil. "I think it's only a twenty-four hour bug. It'll hopefully have cleared up by tomorrow morning."

John nodded, glancing down at his watch. "It's nearly eight o'clock." he informed them. "Is it alright if I go and call Jen? I promised her I'd call every evening."

"Sure, go ahead." said Scott calmly, trying not to smirk at the expression on Gordon's face. His copper-haired brother was puckering his lips and fluttering his eyelids behind John's back, trying to make Virgil crack. And he appeared to be succeeding. Virgil was shaking with silent laughter, his head turned to the wall so that John could not see his face.

"Tell her I said hello." Gordon smiled, sitting on the desk and swinging his legs. John turned towards him with a frown, and Scott chuckled. The last time that Gordon had seen Jennifer Denford, John's girlfriend from his out-of-college astrology study group, he had emptied a bucket-full of cold water over her head 'by accident'. Luckily for him, Jennifer had a good sense of humour and had merely laughed at the prank. Unluckily for him, John and their father had not been so amused. Not only had Gordon been grounded for the whole of Spring break, but he'd also been banned from swimming for a week. That had been one of the worst holidays of his life.

With a final glare at Gordon, John left the room and closed the door quietly behind him. Scott frowned at his younger brother and shook his head.

"You should be grateful that John's so good at reigning in his anger, Gordon." he said softly. "He's still a little touchy about the prank you pulled. You shouldn't tease him about it, or he'll lose his temper. And you know what John's like when he loses his temper."

Gordon nodded solemnly, a small flicker of fear passing over his face. "Oh yeah, I know." He shook himself slightly, as if trying to shake the thought out of his head. Turning to look at Alan, he cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "D'you want me to call dad and tell him about Alan?"

Scott smiled. "Thanks, Gordo. That'd be a huge help. Just tell him that we think Al has a twenty-four hour stomach bug, and that he threw up earlier. Don't let him panic."

"No problem." Gordon reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone. Pressing a few keys, he held it to his ear and walked towards the door. Before he had left, however, he paused, a frown passing over his face.

"It cut straight voice-mail." he said, sounding confused. Scott felt his own face beginning to frown.

"Which number did you call?" asked Virgil, moving to stand beside Gordon. "His general or his private?"

"General" replied the copper-haired teenager. "Shall I give the emergency number a try? Dad's gonna want to know if Alan's sick, right?"

"Definitely." Scott confirmed. "He'll stress if we don't tell him immediately. You know what he's like."

"Yep, he's just like you." said Gordon flatly, dialing another number and putting the phone to his ear once again. A look of confusion passed over his face. "It cut to voice-mail, too."

"What?" Virgil asked incredulously. "That can't be right. Here, I'll try on my cell."

He took out his own phone and rapidly punched in a number, holding the device to his ear and waiting for the ringing to commence. However, instead of the familiar calling tone, there was soft _'click'_, and Jeff's voice echoed down the line.

_"Hi, it's dad. If you can't reach me, there's obviously something very important that has forced me to turn my cell off. Try calling me a couple more times, and call both my work and my general cell phones if you can't get through to me. There's the small possibility that this one is merely malfunctioning. If you're still unable to reach me, then contact the other emergency number I've given you. They'll be able to get your message to me. Until then, stay calm and don't lose your heads. I'll call back as soon as I recieve your message_."

There was another _'click'_, telling Virgil that his father's recorded message was over. He snapped his phone shut, frowning slightly.

"But -" Gordon looked as confused as Virgil felt. "But dad never turns his emergency cell off. We've never had to call the other contact number before. Why d'you think it's not switched on?"

"It'll be about half-way through the main conference by now." said Scott, looking down at his watch. "Maybe he was forced to hand over his cells as a security precaution or something."

"Oooh." Gordon chuckled. "I bet he wasn't pleased about that. Do you think we should call the other emergency number? Or shall we give it a few hours and try again later? It's not _really_ an emergency, is it?"

"Nah, we can leave it till later." said Scott, brushing his fingers over Alan's arm gently and watching as the boy shifted in his sleep. "Alan seems okay for now."

Virgil put his hand to Alan's forehead, then felt the hot cheek gently. "He's still pretty warm." he confirmed. "But it's not too high at the moment. C'mon, let's leave him in peace for a little while."

"You coming to watch a movie with us?" asked Gordon, heading towards the door with Virgil. Scott glanced down at Alan momentarily.

"I'll join you guys later." he said. "I wanna stay with Alan a little while longer, 'kay?"

Virgil and Gordon shared a knowing look. "Okay, Scooter." the copper-haired Tracy smiled. "We'll leave you to cluck in peace."

Scott frowned at the joke. Gordon was forever referring to him as being a 'mother hen' whenever one of the Tracy sons was sick or hurt. And, Scott had to admit, it was probably true. But he couldn't help it. All of Scott's brothers were so precious to him, and Alan was even more so because - to be honest - he had spent over a year raising Alan practically single-handed whilst their father spent most of his time buried in a stack of office papers. Consequently, Alan was the one who he looked out for constantly, the one that he would always try and protect no matter what. And if that made him a 'mother hen', so be it.

As the door closed behind Virgil and Gordon, Scott turned back to the sleeping form on the bed. He smiled affectionately, leaning down and kissing the hot cheek.

"I love you, Sprout." he whispered fondly.

Alan shifted slightly in his sleep, turning over onto his side and grunting softly. Scott leaned back in his chair, picking up a book about dinosaurs off the floor and flicking through it absent-mindedly. He sighed in content, listening to the gentle '_whir_' of his fan and the soft bird song emanating from the jungle that surrounded the villa.

Little did he know that the peace and tranquility of Tracy Island was soon to be shattered.

* * *

**_In the next chapter, Alan's illness takes a turn for the worse. Will Virgil finally realise what ails the youngest Tracy? Will Scott be able to keep his brothers calm? Will the boys be able to reach Jeff? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_There you are, this chapter all done! I hope you all liked it, particularly genbo!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW and give me all your feedback! Love ya!_**

**_X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X _**


	7. Chapter 7: A Scream in the Night

**_Okay, stressful chapter coming up! Be prepared for lots of suffering, lots of tears, lots of panic and a dash of fear. Will the boys finally work out what is wrong with poor little Alan? Will they panic, or will they work together as a team? _**

**_Read and discover! Enjoy!_**

* * *

Alan opened his eyes groggily, peering around the room. It was dark. Very dark. But he couldn't remember having gone to bed. He looked up at his bedside table, peering at the bright red numbers on his alarm clock.

_23:03? That's - um - just past eleven o'clock. When did I go to bed? I don't remember going to bed._

He shifted slightly on the bed, and it was then that he realised the true reason behind his awakening. His stomach hurt. A lot. He put his hand to his right-hand side and grimaced, trying to rub the sharp pain away. However, the pressure of his fingers only seemed to make it worse. He stretched out his legs a little more, thinking that maybe he'd gotten a cramp from lying in the same position for so long. He stopped suddenly when a white-hot pain seared through his abdomen. Letting out a startled yelp, he felt tears pool in his eyes and slide down his burning cheeks.

_My tummy still hurts! Just like it did after I puked earlier, only a lot more than before. I must have fallen asleep when Scotty put me back to bed and - Ow! Oh, my tummy really hurts! Where's Scotty? I need to go and tell him so that he can make the pain go away, and - Ow! I've gotta go find him!_

Alan tried to push himself upright, letting out a quiet sob when another stab of pain caught him off-guard. He wanted Scott. He _needed _Scott. He managed to pull himself slowly into a sitting position, crying softly as his abdomen throbbed mercilessly. Releasing his one-armed hold on his teddy bear, he swung his legs carefully over the side of the bed. The pain this movement caused was excruciating. Gripping the sheets, he slid off the bed and onto his knees, sobbing uncontrollably as his side flared angrily.

_I want dad. Where's dad? I want him to make the pain go away. I'm gonna die, I just know it! This hurts so bad. I want it to stop. Please, God, make it stop! I promise I'll be good and not argue with Gordy, just please make my tummy stop hurting! Ow! I'm scared, I don't like this. Oh, I want Scotty!_

Unable to move because of the agony in his side, he clutched at the duvet and buried his head in the material, his muffled sobs echoing in the silence of the darkened room.

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"C'mon, Gordy! Bedtime!" Scott teased. He smiled when Gordon rolled his eyes.

"Yeah right!" the teenager protested. "It's the summer holidays, as if I'm going to bed at eleven!"

"But little boys need their sleep." cooed John, grinning in amusement.

"Shhh!" hissed Virgil, his eyes focused on the large screen in front of them. "Do you mind? I'm trying to watch!"

Gordon threw an empty soda can at him, chuckling slightly. "Virge, it's nearly finished. You know what happens. They all sail away to the Grey Havens - the end! It's nothing special!"

"Yeah, but the music's good." Virgil insisted. "When the ship's sailing away - it's the first piece I learned to play by myself after mom died. It reminded me of her, that's why. It's so calming and gentle."

Scott, John and Gordon respectfully fell silent, allowing the movie to end without a their running commentaries. Scott watched Virgil as his younger brother relaxed and smiled, listening to the gentle music as it filled the quiet room. Scott often thought that Virgil watched movies merely for the sake of listening to the soundtrack. If a great movie had a lousy soundtrack, Virgil did not like it. Even some of the great classics were pronounced 'lame' because the music was not good enough for Virgil's liking.

Once the song was over and the credits began to roll up the screen, Virgil sighed happily and sat up.

"That's a great movie." he stated. "But it's a shame they didn't end it how it was in the book."

"Didn't they?" asked Gordon curiously. "Why not?"

"Because it's already three hours long, that's why!" laughed John, taking a huge bite out of a cookie. "If they had tried to add anything else to it, people would have started complaining."

Scott stretched his stiff muscles and stood up. "I'm gonna go and call dad on the telecomm in the office." he announced. "He'll be back at the hotel by now, and I wanna catch him before he goes to bed. We still haven't told him about Alan."

"How's Alan doin', anyway?" asked Gordon, unwrapping a peanut butter cup and popping it in his mouth.

"I checked in on him about twenty minutes ago, and he was still sound asleep." said Scott, brushing the cookie crumbs off his shorts. Virgil glanced up at him.

"I'll do a temperature check on him when you've finished calling dad." he stated. "I just wanna make sure it hasn't gotten any higher since the last time I checked it."

"Sure thing." replied Scott, heading towards the door. He walked swiftly down the corridor passed Gordon's bedroom, then passed his own. He was about to pass by Alan's when he paused. There was a strange noise coming from his baby brother's bedroom. Stepping up to the door, he leaned his head in closer and listened intently. His heartbeat quickened when he realised that the noise was Alan, and that the boy sounded as though he was sobbing. Feeling the worry building up in his chest, he fumbled for the handle and pushed the door open.

He froze on the spot in shock. Alan was slumped awkwardly on the floor beside his bed, his upper-body still clinging onto the the mattress. Alan's face was buried in the duvet, his hands gripping the material tightly. But this was not what made Scott's blood run cold. It was the fact that Alan's shoulders were shaking as he sobbed into his duvet, the sound, although slightly muffled, cutting through the silence of the night like a foghorn.

"Alan!" Scott exclaimed, running to the bedside and dropping to his knees beside the distraught boy. "Alan, what's wrong?"

He managed to make his baby brother release his hold on the duvet, and Alan raised his head towards Scott. Blood-shot, puffy blue eyes met worried, frightened brown ones.

"Sc-Scotty!" Alan sobbed in relief, clinging to Scott's shirt front. He seemed to calm down a little, his sobs dissipating into miserable sniffles.

"Baby, what's the matter?" Scott asked worriedly, brushing Alan's tears away with his thumbs. He tried to hold the boy closer, but Alan suddenly started to sob again, shaking his head.

"Don't, Sco-Scotty! H-hur-hurts!" Alan cried desperately, more tears spilling down his cheeks. Scott felt his heart thudding mightily against his ribcage, his breathing quickening as the worry increased within his chest.

"What hurts, Sprout?" he asked, fear lining his voice.

"M-my tu-tummy!" Alan replied, his words punctuated by the sobs. Scott leaned forward and put his arms around the boy, moving to pick him up.

"C'mon, buddy, let's get you back onto the bed." he said, managing to keep his voice from wavering as fear crept into his heart. He turned Alan towards him and put an arm under the boy's knees to scoop him up. However, as he began to lift the sobbing form off the floor, Alan gave an agonised scream and sobbed even louder. The sound was so desperate and pain-filled that Scott was momentarily unable to breathe as his heart constricted. He nearly dropped his brother in shock as the fear that had been rising within him turned into a full-blown panic.

Setting the boy back down on the floor, he barely registered the sound of running footsteps and raised voices as he listened to Alan's loud sobs. Then there was a crash, and Virgil, John and Gordon barrelled through the door. Light suddenly flared above him, and he squinted as stars erupted in his eyes. Somebody had apparently had the sense to flick on the light-switch.

"What happened?" asked Virgil worriedly, darting forward to kneel beside them. He leaned over Alan, an expression of fear and concern on his face. "Did he fall out of bed or something?"

Scott shook his head. "No, I just found him like this!" he cried desperately. "He told me his stomach hurt."

"Why did he scream like that? Is he hurt?" asked Gordon, who was looking rather white as he regarded the sobbing boy on the floor.

"I don't know!" exclaimed Scott, trying to comfort the sobbing boy in his arms. "I just picked him up off the floor, and he yelled in pain! Virgil, what's wrong with him?"

Virgil had also gone very pale, and was leaning over Alan's sobbing form. Gordon and John dropped to the floor beside them, looking expectantly at the middle Tracy son for an explanation.

"Allie, shhh. It's alright, calm down." Virgil soothed gently, trying to prise Alan's hands off his stomach. "Allie, tell me where it hurts."

But Alan was beyond coherent speech, his loud sobs causing his whole body to shake. Scott glanced at John over Virgil's bent head, and their eyes met. John's were full of pain and worry, and Scott knew that they merely mirrored his own. Neither brother could do anything to help, and they both felt so useless. They had never seen their baby brother in so much pain before, and the sound of his heart-wrenching sobs was tearing them apart.

"Scott, pick him up and put him on the bed." ordered Virgil swiftly, sitting back on his heels to give Scott the room he required. Scott hesitated.

"But Virge, that really hurt him last time." he insisted. "I don't wanna put him in any more pain than he's already in. Can't you-"

"Scott, I can't examine him when he's in this position." said Vigil firmly, although his voice cracked slightly from the strain. "I need to get him lying down, now! This is really serious, Scotty, there's no time to argue!"

This last sentence made Scott's blood run cold. _Really serious? Oh God, no. Please not Alan. Don't let this happen to him, please!_

He clenched his teeth and scooped Alan up once more, trying his best to ignore the boy's screams. He lay Alan down flat on the bed, then moved to sit on the top-end of the mattress himself, pillowing the boy's head on his lap. John and Gordon clustered around the bed as Virgil knelt down on the floor and began prising Alan's hands off his stomach again.

"Alan, it's gonna be alright." Scott soothed, stroking his fingers along Alan's cheek. He stopped and put a hand to Alan's forehead, gasping at the heat that radiated back into his palm. "Virge, he's burning up!"

Virgil paused long enough to grab the thermometer and thrust it into John's hands. "John, take his temperature." he ordered quietly. "Gordon, come and hold Alan's arms for me."

John moved up the the top-end of the bed and crouched down, slipping the tip of the thermometer into Alan's ear. Gordon leaned over Virgil and gently held Alan's arms by his sides, rubbing his thumbs along the skin in a desperate attempt to offer a little comfort to his sobbing baby brother. There was a shrill '_beep'_, and Virgil glanced away again to gaze expectantly at his older brother. John's face paled.

"It's 103.2!" he exclaimed worriedly, staring at the reading with wide, fearful eyes.

Virgil swore loudly, but Scott didn't have the heart to reprimand him. In truth, he was thinking the same thing. For a ten-year-old to have a fever of 103.2 degrees was very worrying. Something was obviously seriously wrong with the youngest Tracy.

"Scott, if this is what I think it is, what I'm about to do to Alan is gonna hurt him. A lot." stated Virgil solemnly, lifting Alan's pyjama top out of the way. "But I have to do it, just to make sure."

He bent down and cupped Alan's hot cheek momentarily. "Sprout?" he called softly. Alan's crying quietened somewhat as his gaze focused on Virgil's face. The older brother smiled kindly, his thumb stroking the flushed skin beneath his hand.

"Allie, I'm just gonna have a little feel of your tummy, 'kay?" he said softly. Alan immediately shook his head, squirming slightly in an attempt to wriggle out of Gordon's grasp.

"Shhh." Scott soothed, putting a hand on Alan's chest and halting his movements. "Calm down, buddy. It's okay. Virgil needs to see what's wrong. It's alright, I'm here. Just relax, and it'll all be over soon."

"Scotty, it hu-hurts!" Alan cried miserably, closing his eyes as more tears rolled down his face.

"I know, baby, I know." Scott murmured, his heart wrenching at the sight.

"Allie, I'm gonna just press your tummy in a couple of places, 'kay?" Virgil stated, squeezing Alan's arm comfortingly. "I want you to tell me if it makes the pain any worse, alright?"

Alan nodded, and Scott put another hand on his chest to make his little brother feel more secure. He could feel Alan's body shaking as the quiet sobs affected his breathing patterns, but Alan's tense muscles visibly relaxed under his touch.

Virgil pressed the centre of Alan's abdomen with the fingers of his right hand, glancing up at Alan's face and looking for a response. Alan let out another sob, but did not try to move away.

"Did that make it hurt more?" asked Virgil, watching Alan's face intently. Alan shook his head and sniffed.

"Is that a good thing?" asked John, not liking the way that Virgil's face had paled. Virgil didn't answer, but moved his hand to the lower right-hand side of Alan's abdomen. He gently put pressure on the flesh.

Alan let out an earth-shattering, agonised scream, arching his back and bringing his legs up to his chest. Gordon froze, all colour draining from his face as Alan's scream ended with a round of heart-breaking sobs. John dropped the thermometer on the floor with a loud _'thunk'_ _and_ rushed to help Scott in calming their baby brother down. Tears had welled up in Scott's eyes, but he refused to let them fall, focusing instead on uncurling Alan from the ball he'd formed into.

Virgil's breath caught in his chest, and his eyes went wide in fear and horror as realisation dawned upon him. John and Scott both glanced at him for an explanation, but he was unable to form words as he took a deep, calming breath.

"That's not good." he managed to whisper, the tears creeping into the corners of his eyes as his throat tightened. Standing up, he walked across the room and leaned against the far wall, resting his forehead on the cool plaster and closing his eyes.

Scott forgot about trying to keep Alan lying down flat, and scooped the sobbing boy up in his arms so that he cradled him on his lap.

"Shhh." he soothed, gritting his teeth at the heart-breaking cries that came from his little brother. He gently rocked back and forth, rubbing Alan's back and planting soft kisses on the boy's temple. "Shhh, baby. It's gonna be alright. Calm down, I'm here, I'm right here. Take it easy."

He looked over at John, who was glancing worriedly from Alan to Virgil. Scott cocked his head in Virgil's direction, giving the '_Go-and-see-what's-wrong'_ message. John gave Alan's leg one final caress, before standing up and going to join Virgil on the other side of the room. Scott continued rocking Alan, keeping an eye on Gordon at the same time. The copper-haired Tracy was sitting at the foot of Alan's bed, staring unseeingly at the floor. His hands were shaking slightly, and as Scott watched he clenched them into fists, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"Virge, you okay?" John was asking. Virgil seemed not to hear the question, as he was shaking his head and muttering to himself. He turned around and looked back over at Alan, his eyes filled with pain and fear.

"Virgil, what's wrong with him?" asked Scott. Virgil approached the bed shook his head, pointing at Alan's sobbing form. Then he beckoned Scott over and pointed towards the door. Scott frowned. _What, is he crazy? Does he really think I'm gonna leave Alan now?_

"It's okay, Scott." Gordon mumbled, scooting up the bed so that he sat beside him. "I'll stay with Alan. You and John go outside with Virgil."

Scott hesitated, but after seeing the look of desperation and fear in Virgil's eyes, he consented. Transferring Alan as carefully as possible, he placed the boy in Gordon's lap. Alan screamed again, clutching at his side in agony, but soon latched his arms around Gordon's waist instead.

"Hey, c'mon buddy." Gordon soothed. "It's gonna be okay. I know it hurts, but we're gonna find a way to get rid of the pain soon, you hear?"

To Scott's immense relief, Alan seemed to calm down a little, his sobs decreasing in volume. Gordon bent his head closer to Alan's and whispered soft words of comfort, rocking the boy as Scott had been doing.

"Scott."

Virgil beckoned him over again, opening the door and stepping out into the corridor with John. Scott stood up and followed his brothers out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Virgil, what's wrong with him?" Scott demanded worriedly.

Virgil looked up at him, and it was then that Scott noticed the tears that were shining in his brother's hazel eyes. He felt his fear increasing. _Virgil never gets upset. Oh crap, it must be bad. He wasn't even this worried when Alan broke his arm, or when Gordon fractured his leg in that storm when he was Alan's age. This isn't gonna be good news._

"Virgil, what is wrong with Alan?" Scott repeated firmly. Virgil took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"Alan's got appendicitis." he announced gravely. Scott felt his stomach drop. _Appendicitis? No, he can't have appendicitis, he just can't! There's gotta be some mistake!That can get really bad if it isn't treated immediately! Damn, what am I talking about?! **Get** really bad?! It already **is** really bad!_

"What are we gonna do?" asked Scott, his voice wavering slightly. He swallowed, taking a deep, calming breath.

"We have to get him to a hospital." Virgil stated in a voice of forced-calm. "He needs emergency surgery. If he doesn't have his appendix removed within the next few hours, he could die."

_TBC..._

* * *

**_Will the boys be able to pull themselves together long enough to get Alan to a hospital in time? Will Virgil beat himself up over not realising Alan's illness sooner? Which Tracy son will call their father? Emotions will heighten, tempers will flare, tears will be shed, and panic will be felt. Can our boys make it to the hospital before Alan's condition deteriorates? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_'Gasp' That was one tense chapter, huh? Well, maybe reading it wasn't so tense, but writing it certainly was! Our boys are in for a rough time in the next chapter!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW! I loved all the comments and compliments you made about my work in yesterday's chapter, and I can't wait to see how you liked this one! Please tell me what you liked/disliked/would like more of!_**

**_Until tomorrow, then!_**


	8. Chapter 8: Emergency Takeoff

**_Okay! Let the next chapter begin! Oh, and big thanks to everybody who gave me such terrific reviews for yesterday's chapter, they really made me feel as though my work is appreciated. I hope I won't disappoint you all with today's installment!_**

**_Tensions will rise, fear will mount, pain will flare, and the Tracy brothers will be tested to their limits! Can they make it through the night?_**

* * *

Virgil watched as all colour drained from Scott's face. The open horror and fear in his older brother's eyes was almost too much for the doctor-in-training to cope with, but he tried his best to keep his mask of calm in place. He needed to stay strong for the others. He owed that to them after what he'd done.

_It's all my fault. How could I have been so blind? The fever, the drowsiness, the vomiting, the loss of appetite. Oh, but why the heck didn't Alan tell me about his stomach pain?! I might have been able to diagnose this earlier if he had- What on earth am I saying? Darn it, Virgil, stop blaming the poor Sprout! This is **not** his fault. _**I**_ should have worked this out before now! And now Alan's in serious danger because of me!_

Virgil gritted his teeth and looked back up at his brothers, noticing that both wore expressions of near-panic.

"No-" John breathed, looking equally as pale as the junior Air-force pilot. "No, he - he can't have appendicitis! Virge he - he just can't!"

Virgil felt his throat aching with the suppressed emotion, and swallowed painfully. "Scott, we have to get him to the mainland. Now." he said seriously.

Scott's head snapped up and he took a deep breath. Virgil was relieved to see that the mask of calm had slipped back into place, and that Scott's eyes were now filled with a serious determination. "Alright, here's the plan." he stated. "John, go down to the main hanger and prep Tracy One for takeoff."

John nodded his head once, understanding the need for immediate action in relation to the current situation. He turned around on the spot, swiftly jogging down the corridor and out of sight. Scott took Virgil by the arm and opened the door, pulling him into the room. Virgil's heart clenched again at the sight of his baby brother crying quietly on Gordon's lap, his small arms clinging to his older brother and his blond head buried in Gordon's shoulder.

Scott went up to the bedside and crouched down so that he was at eye-level with Gordon. The copper-haired teenager frowned at Scott in concern when he saw the expression that the eldest Tracy wore, but he did not discontinue his gentle rocking motion. The young blond in his lap had quietened considerably, now only letting out the occasional sniffle.

"Gordon." said Scott softly. "We need to get Alan to a hospital."

Gordon's eyes widened, and he glanced from Virgil to Scott worriedly. "Why? Is it serious?"

Virgil nodded his head slowly. "Gordo, it's - it's appendicitis." he murmured. The younger teenager closed his eyes and took in a sharp breath. Exhaling slowly, he stared up at the ceiling, and said in a small and shaky voice;

"Oh crap."

"Gordon, we need to act quickly." Scott stated, his voice remaining calm and collective. "I want you to grab everybody's emergency over-night bags from the storage closet downstairs, and put them in Tracy One. Can you do that for me? John's firing her up, so be careful."

"Okay, Scott." Gordon replied quickly, although he seemed a little unsure of himself. He glaned down at the small blond in his arms. "But - what about Alan?"

"I'll take him." said Scott, sitting down on the bed beside his younger brothers and scooping Alan carefully out of Gordon's arms. Alan let out a pained cry, his hands clutching at his side once more. Gordon grimaced sympathetically, his eyes shining with tears as Alan began to sob into Scott's chest.

"Go on, Gordon." Scott urged softly. "The sooner we're ready to leave, the sooner we can get Alan to the hospital."

Gordon shot up quickly, jogging across the room to the door. At the doorway, he paused and glanced back at Alan's sobbing form, his eyes full of pain and fear. Then he turned and ran quickly down the corridor, his feet thudding loudly in the stillness of the night.

"Shh. It's okay, kiddo." Scott soothed, nestling Alan's head in the crook of his neck. "It's alright. We'll look after you. Just calm down, buddy. It's gonna be okay."

Once Alan had calmed down again, Scott turned to Virgil. "I'm gonna get him strapped in." he stated swiftly. "I want you to go down to the infirmary and grab whatever supplies you're gonna need for the trip to the mainland, okay?"

Virgil nodded his head once, and Scott stood slowly to his feet. Alan wailed a little louder, clutching at his side in agony, and Scott cradled the sobbing form carefully against his chest. With a final glance at Virgil, he left swiftly out of the door. Virgil clenched his shaking hands into fists and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking in deep breaths of air in an attempt to quell the butterflies in his stomach.

_It's all my fault. He's gonna die, and it's all my fault._ He shook himself mentally, shocked at what he had just thought._ Darn it, Virgil, how can you say that?! We are **not** losing him, you hear?! Not Alan! Dad's already lost mom, losing Alan would kill him. I can't let Alan die from this, I won't allow it!_

He stood up from the bed with a new sense of determination in his mind. Snatching up the aural thermometer and his med-kit, he sprinted out of the door. Flying down the corridors as quickly as his legs could manage, he soon arrived at the infirmary. He ran to the cupboards and sifted through the contents of each shelf, grabbing everything that he thought might help. When he reached the medicine cabinet, he paused.

_I don't know what I can give the Sprout for the pain. I've got child's pain reliever, but that won't even knock the edge off the agony he's feeling right now. There's some liquid co-codamol or paracodeine I can give him, and that's a little stronger than the liquid ibuprofen, but I doubt that will help much, either. Darn it, he needs a shot of bupremorphine or pethidine! But I'm not qualified to administer strong pain killers via injection. What am I supposed to do now?_

He slammed his fists down onto the work surface of the counter, breathing heavily. Making a quick decision, he grabbed both types of drugs and a handful of syringes, stuffing them hurriedly in his med-kit. Sprinting out of the door again, he did not head directly for the lift to the aircraft hangers. Instead, he made a slight detour. It was important that he arrived at Tracy One as soon as possible, but there was something he needed to fetch first. Something that might help his baby brother as much as any analgesic...

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"John, are we ready for takeoff?" called Scott, climbing carefully up the steps and into the aircraft. The blond-haired Tracy swiveled around in the pilot's chair and glanced through to the main compartment.

"All systems are green. Engines are powered up, and we're ready to roll." he reported in a light tone, although he regarded Alan's sobbing form with fearful eyes.

"Good" replied Scott. "Could you come back here a sec and help me to secure Alan onto the emergency stretcher?"

"Sure thing." John immediately jumped up from his chair and moved into the larger compartment. Scott shifted Alan's position slightly, gritting his teeth against the agonised cries that it caused his baby brother to make.

"Allie, we're gonna strap you onto this bed for the takeoff, okay?" Scott said gently. "We can remove the straps one we're airborne, but you need to wear them for the first few minutes. Can you do that for me?"

Alan nodded miserably, letting out another sob and clinging to Scott's shirt like a lifeline. John unfastened the fold-away cot from the wall, lowering it down so that it was about waist-height. Together, they managed to get Alan safely strapped in, the fastenings across his chest preventing him from falling off the bed should they hit turbulence during takeoff.

"Scott, I've secured all the emergency over-night bags in the hold." Gordon called, running up the steps and into the hatch. "Anything else we need to do?"

Scott smiled at him weakly. "No thanks, Gordo, we're good. Actually, on second thoughts, could you do me a big favour and be co-pilot? I wanna stay back here with Alan."

Gordon nodded his head and quickly stepped into front compartment, trying not to look at Alan as the boy lay crying on the cot. Scott stared after him in concern, worried at how pale the copper-haired Tracy was looking. _Well, I guess we all look like that. This is hard on all of us, and Gordon's still just a kid. He's probably terrified that we might lose Alan. And darn it, so am I!_

Virgil suddenly darted in through the hatch, a large med-kit slung over one shoulder and a brown object held under his other arm.

"Right, I'm here." he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Take us up. We need to get going."

John nodded and went back into the cabin, whilst Scott closed and sealed the hatch. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Virgil setting his bag down beside Alan and leaning towards the crying boy. Scott smiled slightly when he realised what the brown object was. Moving to stand behind Virgil, he put a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Hey, Sprout?" said Virgil softly. "I've brought you something."

Alan looked up at his older brothers with tear-filled and red-rimmed eyes, sniffing slightly. Virgil produced the bear from behind his back, holding it out towards his baby brother.

"We couldn't leave without Cocoa, could we?" Virgil smiled. Alan gave a tiny watery smile, taking the teddy bear in his arms and hugging it tightly.

"Thanks, V-Virge." he whispered, hiccoughing slightly. Virgil smoothed the blond hair away from Alan's forehead and planted a gentle kiss on the burning skin, whispering to him softly.

"Guys, strap yourselves in!" called John from the front of the jet. "We're taking off!"

Scott and Virgil both took their seats in the chairs beside Alan's cot, fastening their safety belts. Leaning forward, Scott stroked Alan's hair gently, and the aircraft began moving off down the runway.

"Sc-Scotty? Alan whispered. Both Virgil and Scott bent closer, the concern mounting in their chests.

"Yeah, Sprout?" Scott asked, his fingers stroking Alan's soft cheek. He felt something warm and wet slide over his fingertips, and realised that Alan had begun to cry again.

"I'm scared." the boy whimpered. Scott thought that his heart might break in two at how frightened his baby brother sounded.

"It's alright, buddy." he soothed, his fingers gently caressing the damp, flushed skin. "Everything's gonna be alright, I promise."

Alan started to sob again, one hands pressed against his side as he hugged the bear closer. "Scotty, it hu-hurts!" he cried miserably. Scott looked at Virgil desperately.

"Can't you give him something?" he asked worriedly. Virgil nodded and began to sift through his med-kit, and Scott went back to stroking Alan's hair in an attempt to calm him. The plane suddenly tipped slightly, and Scott knew that they were rising off the runway and into the dark sky. He could see the moonlit ocean out of the window as they soared higher and higher, the dark waters rippling under the pearly glow of the white orb in the sky. On another day, this view would have taken his breath away. Right now, it barely even registered in the back of his mind.

"Okay, guys, we're airborne." John called. "You can unfasten your seat-belts now. I'm setting a direct course for the hospital. ETA is sixty-three minutes at maximum engine capacity."

"Right." said Scott, removing the straps from his own chest, before standing up to unfasten Alan's. "C'mon, Sprout." he murmured. "Let's get you untied, shall we?"

As he gently unclasped the straps, Alan let out another loud sob and arched his back in pain. "Shhh." Scott hurried to soothe. "It's alright, kiddo. I'm here. Don't be frightened, we're gonna look after you."

He turned to Virgil, who held a bottle in one hand and a tiny plastic measuring cup in the other. "What's that?" asked Scott.

"It's a liquid paracodeine that's designed primerilly for children's consumption." Virgil informed him briskly. "It's stronger than ibuprofen, so if we're lucky it'll help to lessen the pain a little."

"If we're lucky?" Scott repeated skeptically. Virgil ignored him, pouring a small amount of the light yellow liquid into the measuring cup and holding it up to the light in order to check the dosage.

"We need to sit him up." Virgil stated, glancing down at where Alan was writhing around on the cot. Scott nodded, reaching out and gently pulling Alan into a sitting position. Alan cried out and tried to push Scott off him, but he was in too much pain to fight back with any real strength. Scott perched behind him on the mattress, supporting Alan's shoulders with his chest. Virgil came to stand in front of Alan, cupping his hot cheek gently.

"Hey, buddy." he said softly. "I'm sorry for that, but we had to sit you up so that you could drink this."

He held the cup in front of Alan's face, and the boy managed to focus his blood-shot eyes on the object as Virgil continued to talk softly to him. "It's a type of medicine to make some of the pain go away." he explained gently. "It doesn't taste very nice, but it'll make you feel better. You need to drink all of it, okay?"

Alan sniffed and nodded, taking in a shaky breath. "O-okay."

Scott put an arm around Alan's front and held him upright gently, being sure to keep the pressure of his hand as far away from the boy's abdominal area as possible. Virgil put the tiny cup to Alan's lips and tipped it slightly so that the boy could swallow the yellow liquid. Scott saw Alan grimace as he gulped down the first mouthful, and the ten-year-old pulled away slightly.

"All of it, Sprout." Virgil insisted gently, following Alan's mouth with the cup as his head moved backwards. Alan grimaced again, but swallowed the rest of the dose without complaint.

"Good boy." Virgil smiled, leaning forward to plant a gentle kiss on Alan's forehead. "That should make you feel better in just a few minutes, okay?"

Alan nodded and sniffed again, leaning his head against Scott's chest and grimacing painfully. He shifted slightly, and then let out a pitiful whimper, hugging his teddy bear tightly and burying his face in the brown fur. Scott rested his cheek against the top of Alan's hair and exhaled slowly. _Another hour until we get to hospital. I don't know if Alan can hold on that long. The poor kid's already in agony!_

"Scott, we need to phone dad and tell him the news." John called from the front of the plane. Scott blanched and felt his heartbeat quickening. _Oh darn. In all the panic over the last ten minutes, I completely forgot about dad. Damn! How am I supposed to tell him this? He's gonna completely freak out on us! Man, what am I supposed to say to him?!_

"Scott?"

Scott's head snapped around at the sound of John's voice, and he sighed deeply, running a free hand through his hair. "I know, Johnny." he said softly. "I'll tell him. He left me in charge, so I should be the one to make the call."

"No arguments here!" came Gordon's voice, and Scott managed a weak smile. It was good to see that Gordon had calmed down enough to gain a little of his sense of humour back again. Scott looked up at Virgil, and was distressed to see the worry and pain in his younger brother's eyes.

"Virge, what's the matter?" he asked softly. Virgil did not reply, but continued to stare unseeingly at Alan as the boy cried quietly in Scott's arms. Scott became worried, and grasped Virgil's arm gently. "Virge, are you okay?"

"Wha-? Yeah, I'm fine." Virgil replied hurriedly. Scott frowned, but did not press the matter. He had bigger things on his mind.

"Virge, could you swap positions with me?" he inquired, indicating his hold on Alan. "I need to get up so that I can call dad."

Virgil nodded mutely, gently taking Alan's shoulders and supporting him as Scott slipped from behind the boy's back. Alan whimpered in pain as his body sagged slightly, and Virgil quickly took Scott's place behind him, holding Alan as Scott had been doing.

"It's alright, Sprout." he soothed. "Scott just needs to call dad so that he can come and meet us at the hospital."

"Ho-hospital?" Alan questioned through his sobs. He had clearly missed out on the whole reason behind their sudden departure from the island.

"Yeah, Sprout." Scott said, leaning over Alan and stroking his cheek. "We're taking you to a hospital on the mainland so that the doctors can make you feel better."

Alan shook is head wearily. "D-don't want to go to a hos-hospital." he muttered, his breath catching in his chest as more tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright." Virgil said gently. "We'll stay with you, Sprout. Don't worry, everything will be okay."

Alan shifted slightly to bury his head in Virgil's shirt. Suddenly, he arched his back and screamed in pain, his arms clamping onto his abdomen as he brought his knees up to his chest. Virgil tightened his hold around Alan's body so that the small boy wouldn't fall off the bed, his eyes widening in fear and worry. Scott leaped forward and tried to soothe Alan as he sobbed loudly into Virgil's arms.

"Shhh, it's okay." he murmured, although he could hardly breathe because of the worry that was mounting in his chest. "It's alright. Calm down, baby, we've got you."

Virgil looked up at him, his eyes full of tears. "It's not working." he whispered. "The paracodeine is hardly even touching the pain. He needs something stronger."

"Can't you give him anything else?" asked Scott frantically, still trying to comfort the sobbing boy. "When he broke his arm, Brains gave him a shot of something or other, and that got rid of most of the pain. Can't you give him anything stronger than paracodeine?"

Virgil shook his head, but is face was uncertain. Scott could see that his brother wasn't telling the whole truth, and grabbed Virgil's arm in desperation. "He can't take much more of this, Virge, he's just a kid! He needs something stronger!"

"I _know,_ Scott!" Virgil snapped, the tears threatening to fall. "But I don't have the proper training to administer a shot of a strong painkiller to a kid so young! I don't know the dosage, and I haven't practised the procedure yet. I'm sorry, okay?! I can't do it!"

Scott stared at Virgil in surprise. _Man, he's really starting to crack. I had no idea he was this stressed. He seemed so calm and collected when he told us about the appendicits earlier. Hmm. I'm gonna have to keep an eye on him. But of course, how could I have been so stupid? Virgil hasn't done the practical training for advanced medicine just yet. He's scheduled to spend one week later this summer working with Dr. Palmar at the hospital, so that he can be trained to do procedures like this. I bet he feels as guilty as hell about his lack of experience. I'd better say something to calm him down._

Scott opened his mouth to speak to his younger brother, when a familiar tune rang out. Everybody, except Alan, froze. Both John and Gordon craned their necks to look at Scott, their expressions fearful and sympathetic. The eldest Tracy took his cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, the name on the screen confirming his fears. Walking to the back end of the jet, he leaned against the wall and pressed a key on his phone. Raising it to his ear, he put on a mask of forced-calm and cleared his throat.

"Hi, dad."

* * *

**_How will Jeff react when he hears the news about his baby boy? Will Alan's pain get even worse, or will Virgil forget about the dangers and try to administer a pain killer without proper training? Will Virgil continue to blame himself, or will Scott find the chance to talk to him? And will they make it to hospital in time? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_Man, I feel mean. I honestly do hate hurting my poor Tracy baby, but I'm trying to make it realistic. Trust me, appendicitis really does hurt this much. Especially if, like in poor Alan's case, it isn't noticed for several hours. Don't worry, as you know I never kill off the main characters in my story. And besides, I can't kill Alan, coz he's in my other story! Honestly!_**

**_Okay, thank you all for reading! Have a great day and PLEASE REVIEW with your comments and questions! Love you all!_**


	9. Chapter 9: Dreaded Phone Calls

**_Okay! What you've all been waiting for! Thanks again for your great reviews, they made me feel happy! As it's the weekend and I had to go to my dance lessen first, so I'm afraid this chapter was a little late today. But I'm sure you'll forgive me, won't you?!_**

**_I hope you enjoy reading! x x x x x x x x_**

* * *

_I hate conferences._

Jeff shook his head and sighed deeply, fishing the keys out of the pocket of his expensive business suit and unlocking his rental car. It was true, he didn't understand how Brains could even think of liking conferences, scientific or business-related. The private conference he had attended over dinner had lasted nearly four hours, and now all he wanted to was go home and take a shower.

_Well, at least the food was good. Probably the only part of the whole darn conference that I actually enjoyed! I don't understand why Dr. Edwards didn't just tell that idiot, Browning, to shut up. Browning was way out of line, and the accusations he was making about the credibility of Dr. Edwards' proposition were totally unprovoked. I mean, had that guy even read the background data?! If he had prepared for the conference, he wouldn't have been forced to question Edwards' every word like it was some sort of Spanish Inquisition or something! Heck, I'm not even tired any more. I'm just so darn frustrated! Four hours! I mean really, it's not humane to confine us in that room for so long, especially with the likes of Browning sitting in the chair across from you!_

Naturally, Jeff was not in the best of moods. On the short drive back to the grand hotel where he, Fermat and Brains were staying, all that he could think about was how uneventful the day had been. As he pulled into the private car-park and turned the engine off, he sat back in his seat and sighed. At least his boys were having a better time than he was. He froze suddenly. _Oh darn. I completely forgot to switch my phones back on! No wonder I haven't had a call from Scott yet! Man, he's not gonna be happy about that. Not one bit._

Stepping out of the car, he paused long enough to fish his three cell phones out of the pockets in his suit, then headed towards the hotel entrance. He took the lift to his room, switching on his 'general' and 'work' cells as he ascended. He sighed and rolled his eyes at the '15 missed calls' on his 'work' cell, all from Tracy Industries manufacturers. Putting that phone back into his pocket, he inserted his key-card into the panel beside the door to his room.

_'Darn fingerprint recognition tests_.' he thought to himself, as the computer spent a long moment scanning his thumb in order to ensure that he was definitely Jeff Tracy. A small beep told him that his pass had been accepted, and he stepped into the posh hotel suite.

He glanced down at his 'general cell' surprised when he saw that there was a missing call from Gordon. When there was no message, he became increasingly worried and took out his 'emergency' cell phone. When he saw that both Gordon and Virgil had tried to call him, he felt fear beginning to rise in his chest. As neither son had left a message, he grabbed his 'general' cell once again and speed-dialed Scott's number, putting put the phone to his ear. After a few seconds, there was a soft 'click', and Scott's voice broke through the stillness of the hotel room.

"Hi, dad."

Except it wasn't Scott's voice. It didn't sound like Jeff's confident, cheery, relaxed eldest son at all. Jeff became immediately concerned.

"Scott, is something wrong?" he asked curiously, trying to keep the worry from his voice. "Both Gordon and Vigil rang the emergency number earlier. What happened, is everything alright?"

He heard Scott take a deep breath, and then exhale sharply. "Dad, you need to fly down to Brookfield Hospital. Now."

Jeff was taken aback by the sudden statement, his heart now hammering against his ribcage as images of his injured children began to flash before his eyes. "Scott, what happened? Where are you?" he demanded firmly, clutching the phone tightly in his hand as he spoke.

"We're in Tracy One, on-route to the hospital." Scott replied, his voice flat and without emotion. "Our ETA is about fifty-five minutes, I think."

"Scott, what happened?" Jeff demanded again, a little more firmly. _Oh darn, this sounds bad. Scott's removed himself from his feelings like he does when he's trying to keep himself together. Something terrible must have happened._

"Dad, it's - it's Alan." Scott replied, and this time his voice cracked slightly. Jeff sucked in a sharp breath. Oh no. What's happened to him? My Alan. He's just got to be alright!

"Is he hurt?" Jeff asked hurriedly. "Did he fall or something?"

There was a pause, and Jeff could hear the loud 'thud' of his heart as it pounded in his chest.

"No, dad, he hasn't injured himself." replied Scott. "Dad, he - he's got appendicitis."

Jeff was glad that he was standing next to the bed. When he heard Scott's statement, his legs suddenly gave way and his head became light. He sat down heavily on the bed, unable to say anything for a moment, a nauseous feeling beginning to churn in his stomach.

"Dad?" Scott asked worriedly. "You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." said Jeff hoarsely. "Are - are you absolutely certain that it's appendicitis?"

"Yes. Virgil's positive." Scott croaked, and Jeff could hear the tension in his voice. Jeff put his head in his hand.

"Damn." he muttered. "Why does it always happen to Alan?" He ran a hand through his hair, blinking back the tears. "How long ago did you find out?"

"Just over fifteen minutes ago." Scott replied. "When Virgil worked out what it was, he said we needed to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. So I bundled the guys into Tracy One and took off. I'm sorry for not calling you earlier, the flight has been kinda hectic. Alan's in a lot of pain."

"Son, don't be sorry." Jeff hushed him gently, standing up with a new determination and grabbing his still-full suitcase from beside his bed. "I was an idiot, anyway, I had my phones switched off. You wouldn't have been able to reach me even if you'd tried. But well done for acting so quickly and getting your brothers into the jet. You've done really well."

"Dad, can you get to the hospital soon?" Scott asked, and Jeff detected the note of desperation behind the request. "Please? I can't handle this on my own."

Jeff wanted to wrap his arms around his eldest and hold him close. Scott hadn't sounded this scared in years, and it hurt Jeff to hear his son so distressed.

"Scotty, I won't reach the hospital for at least three hours, so I need you to keep it together until then, alright? I know you can do this, Scott. Just stay calm, and it'll all be okay." Jeff stated, putting as much encouragement into his words as was possible.

"Alright, dad." his son replied, but his voice was low and it wavered slightly. Jeff paused at the door to his room, frowning slightly.

"Scotty, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly. _There's something else bothering him. Something he's not telling me._

"It's Virgil." said Scott. "He isn't taking this so well. I haven't seen him this stressed in - well - ever. I think he's blaming himself for making the wrong diagnosis earlier, but it wasn't his fault. Alan didn't say anything about a stomach ache until we found him sobbing in his bedroom a little while ago. But Virge won't see it that way. If I know him, and I do, he'll be telling himself how dumb he is. He's really stressed, dad."

Jeff sighed and nodded. "I guess he understands what's going on better than the rest of us, that's why. He knows how dangerous appendicitis can become, and he's probably beating himself up over not recognising the symptoms before now. You know what he's like. I'm gonna need you to keep an eye on him for me once you get to the hospital, okay? Don't let him do anything - rash."

"I'll take care of them, dad." Scott assured him, his voice gaining strength. "All of them. I promise."

"That's my boy." Jeff stated lovingly, opening the door into the corridor and taking off at a jog. "Scott, I'm going to drive to the airport and fly Tracy Two down to Brookfield hospital. I'll contact Thomas Palmar the way and tell him of your arrival. What is your ETA now?"

Scott called something to John, and Jeff heard a faint voice yelling the reply. "About forty-five minutes." Scott reported. "Virgil has given Alan a dose of paracodeine, but it's not wor-"

The voice cut off abruptly as a loud cry could be heard in the background. Jeff felt his heart clench, and he froze on the spot. He heard Scott yell something indistinguishable to one of his brothers, and Jeff caught 'light-speed', 'fry' and 'hospital' in the jumble of dampened words. Scott was either covering the phone, or had moved it away slightly so that he could shout to one of his brothers. Then Scott's voice became clear once more, adopting a gentle and calming tone.

"Shhh. It's alright, Allie." he soothed. "Calm down. I'm here, it's gonna be okay. I'm right here. Shhh."

Jeff could hear Alan's pitiful sobbing over the phone, and tears unwillingly sprang into his own eyes. He hated to see any of his sons in pain, but hearing it without being able to comfort them was so much worse.

"Scotty, I need to go." he said, as he jogged up to his car in the parking lot. "I have to drive the car to the airport. I'll call you back the minute that I'm airborne, alright?"

"Okay, dad." Scott replied. "Oh, and dad?"

"Yes, son?" Jeff asked, sliding behind the wheel and fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"Please hurry." Scott begged. Jeff closed his eyes momentarily and grimaced painfully at the uncharacteristic display of desperation from his eldest son. _I should have been there for them. This must be so hard on all of the boys, especially on Scott. I need to get to that hospital, NOW!_

"I'll get there as fast as I possibly can, son." Jeff assured him. "Now, try to stay calm, and I'll call back soon. It's gonna be alright, Sparky. I promise you. Everything is gonna be alright."

"Okay, dad." Scott sighed. "I'll be waiting for your call. Speak to you soon."

"Bye, Scott."

Jeff waited until Scott had hung up the phone before putting his own away. He slid the key into the ignition, but paused momentarily. Taking a deep breath, he tried to slow his racing heart down a little, closing his eyes and gripping the steering wheel tightly.

_Oh God, please help my family. Please, just give them the strength to make it to the hospital in time. And watch over my baby. He's still so young, and I couldn't cope with losing somebody else who's so dear to me. Our family would suffer so much if Alan didn't make it. Lucy, look after our boys for me until I can reach them. They need your strength and your comfort right now. And so do I. Help us to get through this, please._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Virgil couldn't here Scott's half of the conversation, as his older brother had gone to the back of the jet and was speaking quite softly. However, Virgil could see the tension in Scott's face, and in the way he stood awkwardly against the back wall of the plane. _Scott's finding this pretty stressful. Oh for goodness sakes, we all are, dummy! What on earth am I thinking? Of course he's stressed. If I hadn't been so stupid, maybe things wouldn't be quite this serious! I've let everybody down. I'm supposed to be the one with the medical training, they were counting on me to be able to notice things like this!_

Alan suddenly shifted in his arms, and let out an ear-splitting cry of pain, arching his back and clutching at his abdomen. Virgil hurried to soothe him, wrapping his arms more firmly around Alan's upper body and rocking him ever so gently.

"Easy, Sprout, easy." he soothed, as Scott jogged up from the back of the plane. "Calm down. I've got you."

Scott paused at the bedside, turning in the direction of the front compartment and covering the phone with his hand.

"John! Time to make the jump to light-speed!" he yelled loudly. "I don't give a damn about the engine capacity! Fry them for all I care! Just get us to that hospital now!"

"Got it, Scooter!" John replied, and Virgil felt the plane lurch a little as John increased the speed. Scott leaned over the bed and cupped Alan's cheek in his hand, still holding the phone to his ear. Virgil grimaced when he realised that their father had probably been able to hear Alan's scream. _That's gonna make him panic. Darn it, this shouldn't be happening! Alan should've been in hospital by now!_

"Shhh. It's alright, Allie." Scott murmured softly. "Calm down. I'm here, it's gonna be okay. I'm right here. Shhh."

Alan sobbed quietly, and Scott's pain-filled eyes met Virgil's over the top of his blond head. Virgil couldn't stand to see his older brother so distressed, as he knew that he was the reason why the stress had been created in the first place. Scott began speaking to on the phone again, but Virgil was no longer even trying to listen to the conversation. He cuddled Alan's sobbing form in his arms and bit his trembling lip. There was nothing else he could do to take Alan's pain away. Nothing.

_And it's all my fault. I should have worked harder at my practical studies over Spring break, then I might have been able to learn how to administer shots to kids Alan's age. I can't stand hearing him cry like this! Especially when the pain medication is in the bag at my feet. But I - I can't bring myself to risk giving him anything. If I give him the worng dose, it could kill him. Or if I don't administer it correctly, he could go into septic shock. I just can't risk losing him like that._

"Virgil."

The distraught doctor-in-training turned to look up at his older brother, who was standing beside the bed. He had apparently finished speaking to their father, as his phone was nowhere is sight.

"Mmm?" Virgil inquired softly, his hand rubbing Alan's back gently as he planted a tender kiss on the blond hair.

"How is he?" Scott asked, perching at the foot of the bed and rubbing Alan's leg. Virgil clenched his teeth and tried not to show his emotions.

"Getting worse." he replied flatly. "His fever's increasing. I - I don't think his appendix is gonna be able to take much more of this."

"What d'you mean?" Scott looked at him worriedly, a frown washing over his features. "What happens to his appendix when it can't take any more?"

"It might burst." Virgil murmured, avoiding Scott's gaze and looking back down at Alan. Scott cocked his head to the side.

"And what happens then?" he inquired. Virgil closed his eyes and lowered his head, burying it in Alan's soft hair.

"Doesn't matter." he muttered. _Please stop asking questions. I don't wanna answer them. What exactly am I supposed to say? I know how much danger Alan is in right now, especially if his appendix ruptures. That could lead to full-blown peritonitis if it isn't treated immediately. And the chances of a ten-year-old surviving severe peritonitis is less than ten percent. Oh God, please don't take him away from us just yet! _

Scott's hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, and Virgil opened his eyes and looked up.

"Hey, are you alright?" Scott questioned worriedly. Virgil cursed himself for letting his emotions surface, and quickly forced the look of calm back onto his face.

"I'm fine, Scott." he replied wearily. "I just wish we were already at the hospital."

"Me too, buddy." said Scott, putting an arm around his shoulders. "It's just a pity that we didn't realise what was wrong with him sooner."

Virgil felt a pain rising in his chest, and his throat tightened. He knew that Scott wasn't blaming him for his mistake, but that only made the guilt even worse. Because Scott should be blaming him. _That's because he doesn't know how bad it can get. If he knew that my mistake might cost Alan his life, he'd definitely be blaming me. And Gordon and John probably would, too. I've let everybody down._

They sat in silence for several minutes, gently stroking Alan's hair until his sobs had subsided. The younger boy rubbed a hand across his face and sucked in a shaky breath.

"V-Virge?" he asked. Virgil bent his head down so that his cheek rested against Alan's.

"Yeah, Sprout?"

"Why does my side hurt so bad?" he sniffed miserably. Virgil looked up at Scott, his eye begging for help. _How do I explain this to a ten-year-old without completely freaking him out?!_ Scott nodded his head for Virgil to explain, as he clearly did not understand the biology side of the ailment himself.

"Alan, there's this little thing in the lower right-hand side of your abdomen called an appendix" he began gently, his hand smoothing down Alan's ruffled blond hair. "Now, sometimes people can suffer from something called 'appendicitis', which is where the appendix becomes inflamed and the flesh becomes infected. That's why it's so painful."

Virgil bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to think of how to go on. _Well, this isn't exactly the most medically-correct way of explaining appendicitis, but at least he'll understand what's happening._

"So how do you make it stop hurting?" Alan asked, shifting slightly in Virgil's arms. He stiffened, letting out a small whimper, and clutched his brother's arm tightly, a few more tears leaking from his blood-shot eyes.

"Shhh." Virgil soothed. "Just take some deep breaths, kiddo. That's it." When Alan had calmed down a little, he cleared his throat and continued. "We're taking you to the hospital, Al. The surgeons will be able remove the appendix so that it doesn't make you any more sick than you already are."

"You mean have and op-operation?" Alan asked worriedly, his voice hitching a little more in fright. Scott leaned forward and stroked his face tenderly.

"It's alright, Sprout." he said softly. "Don't worry about anything. We're gonna stay with you as much as we can, okay? And Thomas Palmar is gonna meet us on the runway. You wanna see Thomas again, right?"

Alan nodded slightly. "Haven't seen him in ages." he mumbled wearily. "Not - not since he came over to visit. I like Tom. He can think up the best pranks in the world. Even better than - than Gordon."

Scott and Virgil smiled slightly. Dr. Thomas Palmar was an old friend of their father's, as he had been a junior doctor on the space station where Jeff had worked for several months at a time up until Gordon's birth. They had been the same age, and the youngest members of the team on the station. Consequently, they had become firm friends within the first few days and, even after Jeff's rotation had ended, they had continued to send daily messages to each other. Dr. Palmar had resigned from the NASA programme just over four years ago, and pursued his medical profession as the lead consultant at Brookfield hospital. He had moved to that hospital for several reasons. One; it used advanced technology, the sort that he had become accustomed to using on the space station. Two; the hospital had required an experienced consultant who was fully familiar with each piece of equipment, as Dr. Palmar was. And three; their father had told Thomas all about his dreams for International Rescue, and the doctor had wanted to be as close to the island as possible so that he could be on-hand to perform serious operations at the hospital with no questions asked, should an accident occur during a rescue mission. It was safe to say that Jeff had been very pleased with this arrangement.

Alan suddenly cried out again, gripping Virgil's hand tightly and letting out a loud sob. "Virge, it hurts!" he cried.

"I know, buddy. I know it hurts, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Virgil murmured trying to calm the boy down as he writhed around on the bed. He didn't miss the incredulous stare that his older brother shot in his direction. Scott wanted to know what he was apologising for. But Virgil couldn't tell him. He couldn't tell anybody.

"Scott, can you hand me the aural thermometer?" he asked. "It's in the bag."

Scott hopped off the bed and picked up the med-kit, sifting around momentarily until he found the desired object. Handing it to Virgil, he sat back down on the end of the bed and resumed his gentle stroking of Alan's leg. Virgil bent down and kissed his baby brother's cheek gently.

"Sprout, I'm just gonna check your temperature, okay?" he said softly. "Hold still, and I'll be done in a few seconds."

He slipped the tip into Alan's ear, holding the boy's head with his free hand. After the 'beep', he removed it and smiled gently. "That's my boy." he congratulated. Peering at the reading, he frowned slightly. It was now 103.6, no doubt because of the emotional distress his brother was suffering from.

Virgil felt his pocket vibrating, and a familiar tune rang out. "That's my cell phone." he said, unnecessarily. Scott stood up and held Alan's shoulders whilst Virgil slid from behind his baby brother's back. Alan let out another cry of pain, and Scott quickly slipped into Virgil's vacated space, holding Alan up gently and whispering soothing words of comfort to the distraught boy. Virgil opened his cell and saw that the call was from Dr. Palmar himself. Pressing a key, he raised it to his ear and tried to make his voice sound convincingly calm.

"Hello, Dr. Palmar." he greeted softly, sitting down in one of the seats at the back of the plane.

"Hi, Virge." came the reply. "And stop calling me 'Dr. Palmar'!"

Virgil managed to smile at their usual joke, but it was a weak and minuscule smile, that was quickly washed away in the frown that took its place.

"I just got off the phone with your dad." the doctor continued. "He told me that you boys are on your way to the hospital because Alan has appendicitis. Now, are you absolutely certain? What are his symptoms?"

Virgil took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he tried to compose himself. "Severe lower-abdominal pain, located primarily in the right quadrant." he said, slipping easily into the realms of 'medical jargon', or so Gordon had named it. "He has a temperature of 103.6 degrees, and suffered from sever nausea and vomiting earlier this evening."

"Okay." the voice said. "Well, I agree with your diagnosis, it definitely sounds like appendicitis. Do you know how inflamed the appendix has become? Is the abdomen rigid?"

"Just a little, doc, but it's still reactive." replied Virgil.

"My name's Tom, Virgil." he sighed dramatically, and Virgil couldn't help but smile a little. Tom always made him smile. "Well, that's good news, anyway. The appendix hasn't burst yet. But the slight distension may be an indication that there is already a small rupture in the organ. You'll have to keep a close eye on that until you erach the hospital. Well, it certainly sounds like you know what you're talking about when it comes to appendicitis, hey kiddo?"

Virgil shook his head. _No I don't. If I did, I would have identified it sooner, and Alan would have been in a hospital by now_.

"How're you holding up, Virge?" Thomas asked. Virgil cleared his throat.

"We're okay. Alan's in a heck of a lot of pain, so I've given him twenty-five of paracodeine." he reported, purposefully avoiding the real question. "But it isn't having any effect on the pain. I've brought the bupremorphine with me, but I haven't taken the training to administer it yet. I don't know what to do. He's in agony and I can't do anything to stop it! What am I supposed to do? Maybe I should just try and give him a dose of bupremorohine. If you could direct me, I'm sure I could-"

"Virgil, listen to me." Thomas said calmly. "I want you to take a deep breath and concentrate on my voice for a minute, can you do that?"

Virgil swallowed and took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He knew he was going to end up hyperventilating if he carried on like this. He needed to focus. "Okay, I'm alright." he said.

"Well done." Thomas replied gently. "Now, listen to me carefully, Virge. You are, under no circumstances, to try and administer the pain killer, d'you understand? I know that you're worried about Alan, so am I. But he's going to be alright. Appendicitis is treatable, overdosing on bupremorphine is not. I'm not questioning your capability as a doctor, Virgil, but you just haven't had the training yet. It's a very advanced procedure for somebody your age to attempt, and one slip would kill your brother. D'you understand, Virge?"

"Yes, sir." Virgil replied quietly. There was a short silence, then Tom cleared his throat and repeated his question.

"How're you holding up, Virgil?" he asked. Virgil bit his lip and hurriedly thought of a way to avoid the question.

"The rest of us are doing okay." he said, hoping that a generalisation would suffice. "John and Gordon are piloting, so at least they've got a distraction. Scott's being Scott, so he's coping. Yeah, we're okay, all things considered."

"Virgil, you still haven't answered my question." said Tom, with a trace of amusement in his voice. "Now, I've known you long enough to see that you're definitely not okay. So, what's the matter?"

Virgil thought that this was a rather stupid question. "Well, Alan happens to have appendicitis, haven't you noticed that?" he shot back, rather rudely. In the silence that followed, Virgil immediately felt sorry for snapping.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I'm really sorry." he apologised, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I just don't know what to do right now. I hate not being able to do anything to help him, you know?"

"Yeah, buddy, I know." Thomas replied softly. "But it'll be alright, you'll see. You've done really well so far, and you've remembered your training like a pro. I'm proud of you, kid. Keep it together for me, 'kay?"

"Okay, Tom." Virgil agreed, although his heart was wrung with guilt and shame. _Like a pro? Yeah right. I was too blind to recognise appendicitis when it was staring me right in the face. I'm such an idiot. When Tom hears how long it took me to diagnose Alan's illness correctly, I'll be surprised if he still wants to tutor me._

"Virgil? I have to go. We just got an influx of trauma patients." said Thomas hurriedly. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I want you to call my cell phone when you're five minutes away from the landing strip, 'kay? That way, I can have a gurney and a medical team waiting with me when you touch down."

"Alright, Tom. Will do." Virgil stated. "See you later."

Once Thomas had hung up, Virgil put his head in his hands and tried to hold back the tears.

_Please, don't let Alan die from this. I'll never forgive myself if we lose him. We all love him so much, and it'll break dad's heart to lose somebody else after losing mom. Please, help me to stay strong for my brothers until dad gets to the hospital. I can't do this on my own, I just can't._

Virgil looked up and out of the window beside him. For the first time in many years, he wished that they didn't live on a tropical island in the middle of the ocean. In his opinion, a nice house next-door to the hospital would suit the Tracy family quite nicely.

* * *

**_What happens to our boys when they arrive at the hospital? Will they be able to keep it together, or will the stress finally make Virgil crack? Will Alan's operation go smoothly, or will complications arise? And news will Thomas give to Jeff and the boys one the procedure has finished? Find out in the next chapter!_**

**_Okay, who's feeling sorry for poor old Virgil (puts hand up) - yeah, me too. But of course he's being hard on himself. He's a sixteen-and-a-half year old doctor-in-training who thinks he's responsible for Alan's present state of health. And he's a Tracy. Never a good combination._**

**_PLEASE REVIEW! You guys are all giving me terrific feedback and asking fantastic questions, so please keep it up!_**

**_Well, that's all for today, folks! I'll see you tomorrow with the next exciting chapter! _**

**_Laters!_**


	10. Chapter 10: Waiting in Worry

**_Hi guys! Right, I am very sorry that this chapter is up so late. I was out all day and evening yesterday with my friends coz I went to a slumber party next door! Sorry for not giving you guys any warning. Oh, and thank you everybody for all your great reviews, I really don't mind people giving me pointers and advice!_**

**_So yeah, enjoy the chapter, my faithful fanfictioners!_**

* * *

Virgil gripped Alan's hand tightly as the med-team wheeled his gurney into a small room adjacent to the operating theatre. He gave it a gentle squeeze, glancing over at Scott, who was holding Alan's other hand equally as firmly. They came to a halt near a wall on the far side of the room, where a number of advanced medical appliances were situated. Dr. Palmar stepped forward and leaned over Alan's small form, Gordon and John standing just behind him.

"Okay, buddy, we're hear." he said softly. "I'm going to give you another shot, just like the one I gave to you in the jet, and that'll put you to sleep for the operation, okay?"

Alan nodded wearily, still a little confused from the high dose of bupremorphine that Thomas had given him. Turning to the other Tracy boys, the doctor beckoned them over.

"Say goodbye quickly, and then we'll prep him for surgery." he said softly. "I'll have somebody take you to my private office until the operation's over."

Gordon stepped up to the gurney, bending over his baby brother and giving him a gentle hug. "You hang tight, kiddo." he whispered. "We'll be right beside you when you wake up, 'kay?"

"'kay, Gordy." Alan mumbled. Gordon smiled and squeezed his shoulder gently, before stepping back to allow John through.

John took his place a few seconds later, stroking Alan's cheek and planting a quick kiss on his hair. "Don't worry, Sprout. You'll be feeling better soon, I promise. It'll be just like falling asleep at home, there's nothing to be frightened about."

Virgil swallowed painfully, a burning sensation building up in his eyes. _They really don't know, do they? They don't realise how serious this is going to get. I saw Dr. Palmar's face when he felt Alan's abdomen a few minutes ago. I think that - I think that his appendix might have already ruptured._

"Scott, Virgil," said Thomas. "I think you boys had better stay until the anaesthetic has taken effect. I doubt Alan's gonna let go of your hands until he's under."

Scott smiled weakly, but Virgil's face remained impassive. He watched as a nurse cheerfully bustled John and Gordon from the room, before returning his gaze to the small boy on the gurney. Dr. Palamr had donned a pair of surgical gloves and was holding a syringe in his hand.

"Alan," he said softly. "I'm going to inject the anaesthetic into the IV line that we put in, okay? It won't hurt a bit. Just keep looking at Virge and Scott, and it'll be over in a minute."

Virgil leaned over a little more so that he was blocking Alan's view of the doctor. He smiled warmly, giving the hand he held a gentle squeeze. Alan looked up at him, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

"Virge, I'm scared." he whispered, a wet tear leaking out of the corner of his eye. Virgil's heart wrenched again at how confused and helpless his baby brother appeared to be. The drugs, like the pain, were making Alan increasingly lethargic. But at least his little brother wasn't in agony any more.

Scott leaned in closer, brushing the tear away with his thumb. "It's gonna be alright, Allie." he soothed. "You'll just go straight to sleep, and when you wake up Virge and I will be right here. Don't be scared."

"Scotty, I want dad." Alan croaked, another tear rolling down from his eye and across his temple.

"I know you do, buddy." Scott replied, his voice strained with emotion. "But dad can't be here right now. He's on his way to the hospital at the moment. And when you wake up, he'll be right next to you, okay?"

Alan closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "Feel sleepy." he slurred. Scott and Virgil exchanged glances, before turning their attention back to their youngest brother.

"That's it, Alan." Virgil murmured softly, running a hand through the blond hair. "Go to sleep. It'll be okay."

Virgil felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see a kind-faced nurse standing behind him. Thomas was nowhere in sight.

"Dr. Palmar has gone to scrub in for the operation." she explained softly. "And you boys need to leave it to the surgeons now. You can see your brother again once he's out of theatre."

Scott bent down and kissed Alan's forehead. "Love you, Sprout." he whispered softly, his eyes glistening slightly. He took a deep breath, composing himself quickly and smiling at the nurse. "Could you perhaps show us to Dr. Palmar's office? I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with the hospital layout."

She smiled in return. "Of course, dear. And I'll see about getting you some coffee whilst I'm at it. You look as though you're in dire need of a cup."

Scott smiled his thanks, stepping away from his side of the bed, and coming to stand behind his other brother. Virgil returned his gaze to Alan's face, which had relaxed slightly. Leaning down so that his lips were centimetres from Alan's ear, he took a ragged breath and tried to keep his voice from cracking.

"I'm sorry, Sprout." he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I promise I'll never let anything like this happen again. I swear it. Just please, stay strong for me. I can't live without you, kiddo."

Straightening up slightly, he brushed a kiss over Alan's cheek and released the warm hand from his grasp. He felt Scott's arm come around his shoulder's, steering him towards the door. Virgil kept his gaze fixed on Alan's body until the very last second, when the doors _'swished'_ closed and he was forced to look away. He barely registered the concerned looks that Scott flashed his way as they followed the nurse down the corridor. On the outside, he could feel the pressure of Scott's arm on his shoulders, and the gentle fan of cool air as they passed under an air-conditioning conduit. However, on the inside, he felt numb and cold.

They were lead to a spacious office on the third floor, where the noise from the emergency department could not be heard. Inside the office, there were a number of chairs and a large couch at the back of the room, several metres away from the large wooden desk. Upon the huge couch, John and Gordon were sitting next to each other, their gazes fixed on the floor. They both looked up at the sound of somebody entering the room, scooting over so that their brothers could sit beside them. Scott immediately took the empty space beside Gordon, putting an arm around the teenager's shoulders. He indicated for Virgil to take the other seat beside him, but Virgil shook his head slightly. He wanted to be left alone right now.

The nurse smiled at them kindly. "Will you boys be alright?" she asked softly.

"Yes thank you, mam." Scott replied calmly, his face relaxed and free of tension. Virgil knew it was just a mask that he had forced into place for the sake of his brothers, but he appreciated that Scott was at least managing to hide his true feelings. Virgil really couldn't cope with having his older brother in hysterics at the present moment. Although admittedly, Scott wasn't the sort of person who easily became hysterical.

"Do you understand the procedure that's taking place, or would you like me to explain it to you?" she continued. Scott, John and Gordon glanced in Virgil's direction, but he kept his gaze directed at the potted plant in the corner of the large room.

"That's alright, mam." John said steadily, managing a tight-lipped smile of thanks. "We understand the basics. And what we don't understand, we probably don't need to understand."

The nurse smiled in return, nodding her head. "You're probably right, dear. Now, I'm going to get you all a cup of coffee and some sandwiches. Dr. Palmar has given me strict instructions to make sure that you all have something to eat and drink. To quote his words directly, he said _'Especially stubborn old Scott'_. Which one of you is 'stubborn Scott'?"

Scott chuckled softly. "That'd be me, mam."

"Oh please, call me Suzie." she smiled. "Dr. Palmar talks an awful lot about you and your brothers. How long have you known him?"

"Oh, I think he was the doctor who helped to bring me into this world. I've known him for as long as I can remember. He's kind of like our uncle, I guess." Scott replied, shaking his head slightly as he thought of times past.

Suzie smiled and walked towards the door. "I'd suspected as much." she said softly. "He cancelled three board meetings and a seminar so that he could stay here this evening and perform your brother's operation. And he _never_ cancels board meetings. I haven't seen him so insistent about performing an operation in years!"

With that, she opened the office door and left the room. The Tracy boys sat in silence for several minutes, each brother caught up in their own emotions and thoughts. Finally, Scott broke the tense atmosphere and stood up.

"I'm going outside to call dad." he stated. "The last time he phoned, he had just set a course for the hospital. I promised I'd call once Alan had gone into surgery. Will you guys be okay in here for a few minutes?"

"We'll be fine, Scotty." Gordon replied, leaning back in the couch and sighing deeply.

"Yeah, go and call dad." agreed John, his gaze flicking from Scott to Virgil momentarily. "He's gonna want to know what's going on with all of us."

Scott sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the tension returning to his features once more. Then his eyes fell on Virgil, and he frowned slightly.

"Virge, you okay?" he asked. Virgil's head was in his hands, his shoulders slumped and his elbows resting on his knees. At the sound of his name being called, however, his head shot up,

"What? Did you say something?" he inquired, trying to slide the mask of calm back onto his weary face. _Good going, Virge. Why not just make all your brothers even more worried?! That'll really help matters!_

Scott frowned at him slightly, but decided not to repeat the question. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. I was just telling the others that I'm gonna go and call dad."

"Okay." Virgil answered, not knowing what else to say. He couldn't shake this horrible sense of guilt and shame that had landed upon him so heavily. And he knew he deserved to feel this way. It was only right after what he'd done.

As he watched Scott turning to leave out of the corner of his eye, he saw his eldest brother glance at him worriedly, before finally closing the door. Virgil exhaled slowly, lowering his head into his hands once more. _This surgery could take hours to complete, especially if complications arise. Oh man, I hope it's over by the time that dad gets here. He's gonna want me to explain it to him, and I really don't know if I can cope at the moment. If the surgery finishes before dad arrives, Tom will be able to talk to dad and I won't have to. Oh please, let the surgery be over by then. Please._

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Gordon paced the office nervously. Alan had been in theatre for an hour now, and Suzie had been unable to get any information from the surgeons on how well the operation was going. It was nerve-wracking to say the least.

"I _hate_ waiting around like this!" Gordon exclaimed grumpily, plonking himself down in a chair.

"I know, Gordon, we all do." said John softly. "But at least we know he's in good hands. Dr. Palmar is one of the greatest surgeons on the planet, and he won't allow anything to go wrong."

Gordon nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But I just feel so useless! Isn't there anything we can do?"

"Not unless you've been hiding some sort of exceptional surgical talent all these years." John remarked dryly, looking up from where he had been stacking the plastic cups into a pyramid on the desk. "And that's about as likely as Scott deciding that he hates fast planes."

Gordon smiled slightly. "You know, Johnny-boy, that was actually _almost _funny!" he said slowly, a look of mock-amazement on his face. "Keep it up and you might actually tell a proper joke one of these days!"

The door suddenly opened, and Scott came back into the room. "The on-call nurse couldn't get any information, either." he sighed, sitting down on the couch beside Virgil. "She says that the surgeon wouldn't give her any details except that _'the patient is still in surgery'_."

"No kidding." said Gordon sarcastically. "That's just a way of saying _'I'm not going to tell you'_!"

"I want another coffee." Scott grumbled, putting his hands to his temples and rubbing them. John shook his head firmly.

"No, Scott. You've had two, and that's quite enough. You _know_ what happens when you drink to much caffeine when you're stressed. You'll wear a hole in the floor with all your pacing. And I think that Tom's quite attached to his carpet, so I wouldn't recommend it."

"But-" Scott began.

"NO!" John repeated firmly. "You're stressed enough as it is. Add hyperactive pacing into the mix, and you'll end up being sedated by one of the nurses!"

Gordon smiled to himself as he listened to his two older brothers bickering amongst themselves. His gaze fell on Virgil, who had remained uncharacteristically withdrawn since their arrival at the hospital just over an hour ago. Gordon could tell that something was wrong, but he could also tell that Virgil was trying his best to hide this fact from the rest of them. And if Virgil was trying to hide it, he wasn't going to react kindly to Gordon asking him questions regarding the matter. Therefore, Gordon mused, it was safer to study him in silence.

He managed a slight chuckle as Scott stood up and began pacing again. John was right, having another coffee would _definitely _be a bad idea.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Jeff jogged down the hospital corridor, his heart hammering in his chest - both from the sprint he'd just done to get from the landing strip to the hospital entrance, and from the worry that was mounting inside of him._ My boy's in surgery. My baby boy. He's been in there for over two and a half hours now. And Scott still hasn't heard anything. I rang him just before I landed, and there was still no news on Alan's condition. Maybe Virge can tell me something, he understands the procedure better than the rest of us. Perhaps he knows what's going on._

"Mr. Tracy?"

Jeff froze at the call, turning around very slowly. _If this is another pack of press reporters, I'm shoving the cameras down their throats!_

"Mr. Tracy, I thought that was you!" called a cheerful-looking nurse, jogging up to where he stood. She extended a hand. "Hello, sir, it's good to meet you at last. I've had the pleasure of getting to know four of your sons in the past few hours. They truly are wonderful boys, Mr. Tracy. So polite. But Scott's a little - ah - stressed at present."

Realisation suddenly dawned upon Jeff, and he shook her hand gently. "You must be Suzie." he stated, remembering Scott telling him that the nurse would be there to meet him once he had disembarked from Tracy Two.

"That's right, sir." she smiled. He managed a weak smile in return, although he could not help shuffling worriedly as he looked around, almost hoping to see his good friend, Thomas Palmar, walking around the corner of the corridor.

"Please, is there any news on my youngest son?" he asked, barely able to keep the desperation from his voice. Her face softened in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy." she said, putting a hand on his arm. "But I haven't heard anything from upstairs in quite a while. But trust me, that's usually good news. If something serious had happened to Alan during the operation, I would have been notified."

Jeff relaxed slightly at her words, realising the truth behind them. "Could you take me to my other sons, please?" he asked. Suzie nodded and began walking away down the corridor.

"Right this way, sir." she said, leading him up two flights of stairs and along another long corridor. Jeff noticed, however, that the floor was carpeted up here. And the rooms all appeared to have locks on the doors. She pushed one of the unlocked doors open, gesturing for him to go inside ahead of her.

"I'll go and see if I can get any information on Alan's progress." she said. He smiled at her gratefully, before pushing the door fully open and stepping into the room.

"Dad!"

Jeff heard his second-youngest before he saw him. Coming to a halt, he vaguely registered the blur of copper hair before he found two arms wrapped tightly around his chest. Jeff gladly put his own arms around his son, hugging him tightly and massaging Gordon's hair with his fingers the way that he liked.

"Hey, Gordon." he said softly. "Are you alright?"

Gordon pulled away slightly and nodded, but Jeff noticed the large bags under his sons blood-shot eyes. It had been a long night for the young teenager. _Heck, it's been a long night for all of us. Darn it, I wish I knew if Alan was alright. I can't lose another family member like this, I just can't! _

Looking up, Jeff spotted two more of his sons sitting on the couch. John quickly leaped to his feet and jogged forward. Jeff released his hold on Gordon and pulled John in for a firm hug.

"Dad, I'm so glad you're here." he mumbled into Jeff's shoulder. "Scott's starting to crack with the strain. Suzie made him take a walk because he was making her dizzy with all his pacing. Although Scott did kinda bring it upon himself, the idiot didn't listen to me and had another cup of coffee."

Jeff managed another weak smile, but his heart was aching for the want of seeing his youngest son again. He pushed John away at arms-length as he had done with Gordon, glancing at John's tired and strained features.

"How're you holding up?" he asked softly. John shrugged, sighing and shaking his head.

"Two and a half hours, dad." he muttered. "What's taking them so long?"

"I don't know, John." Jeff replied sadly. "I really don't know. Suzie's gone to see if she can find out any information on what's happening down there."

Jeff released his hold on John, frowning in worry as he glanced over at the silent figure on the couch. Virgil sat quiet and still, his gaze focused on the floor. He didn't appear to have noticed Jeff's arrival. Striding forward, Jeff put a hand on his middle-child's shoulder and squeezed it gently. Virgil jumped violently, blinking up at Jeff in surprise. Then a jumble of emotions crossed his face - surprise, relief, fear, pain, sadness, confusion - before a mask of calm slid into place. Jeff knew that particular mask. It was the one that Virgil stored away for dire situation. That's what made him so dependable. He never showed his true emotions, even when everybody else began to panic.

"Dad! I thought Scott said that you wouldn't be here for another half an hour." Virgil remarked. Jeff sat down beside him and pulled him into a hug, frowning as he felt his son tense up a little in his arms.

"Virgil, he did say that." said Gordon, wearing a confused expression. "But he said it _half an hour ago! _Where've you been for the last thirty minutes?"

Jeff pushed his son away slightly to look into his face once more. "Virgil, are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah dad, I'm f-" Virgil began, but stopped abruptly as the door opened again.

"DAD!" Scott exclaimed happily. Jeff stood up and opened his arms for his eldest, feeling Scott fall into them gratefully. "Dad, I am _so_ glad to see you!"

"Same here, Sparky." Jeff chuckled, pulling Scott down onto the couch beside him. His face became serious and strained one more. "Now, have you heard anything? Do you know what's going on?"

Scott shook his head, glancing in Virgil's direction. "No, Suzie hasn't been able to get a word out of them yet."

Jeff turned towards Virgil. "Is it normal for the operation to last this long?" he asked. Almost immediately, all the colour drained from Virgil's face.

"I - um - I don't really know." he mumbled, looking at the floor again. Jeff felt his worry increasing_. What's he not telling me? There's something else going on here, something important. I haven't seen Virgil look this tense in years. He looks positively sick. _

He opened his mouth to ask Virgil what was wrong, but stopped and swung around suddenly when the door opened. Thomas Palmar entered the room and shut the door behind him. Immediately, everybody was on their feet.

"Tom! How is he? Is everything alright?" Jeff demanded worriedly. Thomas raised his hands in a calming gesture.

"Jeff, take it easy before you have a heart attack." he smiled. "Alan is going to be just fine."

The Tracy family let out a collective sigh of relief, Jeff collapsing back onto the couch and putting his head in his hands.

"Oh...oh thank God." he managed. Inwardly, he was crying with happiness. The thought of losing another person so dear to him had been almost to much to to live with. _My baby's gonna be okay. Oh Lucy, you did it. We're all gonna be okay now._

Scott sat down beside him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiling at both Gordon and John. Virgil's face, although a little more relaxed, remained impassive.

"Sit down, boys." Thomas instructed softly, indicating for the others to take their seats, too. He perched on the edge of his desk and smiled at them. "Alan's surgery was a success, and his appendix has been removed."

"But?" asked Virgil, and everybody turned to look at him. Thomas' face became a little graver.

"Unfortunately," he began, and immediately everybody tensed up once again. "I discovered that his appendix had already burst by the time we had begun the operation."

Virgil's shoulders sagged and his head dropped into his hands. Jeff glanced at him worriedly. _What happens when the appendix bursts? I thought that Tom said Alan was okay? I don't understand!_

"Does he have peritonitis?" Virgil inquired shakily, his voice muffled by his palms.

"What's that?" Gordon asked worriedly. "Is that serious?"

"Peritonitis occurs when the appendix has perforated or 'burst', and the 'serous membrane' - the specialised tissue that lines the abdominal cavity - becomes infected." Thomas explained. "And no, Virge, Alan doesn't have it."

Virgil looked up, his face pained and drawn. "Are you certain?"

"Yeah, buddy, I'm certain." he replied lightly. "I ran a bio-molecular scan of the surrounding tissues, and there was only a small trace of the infection within the cells. Alan won't suffer from the effects of peritonitis. However, because his appendix was ruptured, we've had to put him on a high dose of wide-spread antibiotics to counteract the effects of secondary infection."

"What does that mean?" Jeff asked, a concerned frown playing at his brow. "Is that something we should be worried about?"

Thomas smiled kindly. "Alan's gonna be a little sore for a while, but he'll make a full recovery." he stated. "The antibiotics are more of a precaution than a neccessity, but it can be fatal if infection sets in so we daren't risk withholding the antibiotics from him."

"Can we see him?" Jeff asked, and he stood up hopefully. Thomas nodded.

"Sure thing." he replied. "We've moved him up to a private ICU room, that way you can't possibly get tackled by the press reporters downstairs."

"Thanks, Tom." Jeff smiled, as he and his sons followed the doctor out of the office. The walk to the ICU area seemed to take forever, and Jeff found himself tapping his foot impatiently as the lift made it's slow ascent to the upper floors of the hospital. _C'mon, I need to see him. I need to make sure he's alright. I need to see him with my own eyes. _

He kept glancing around at his sons, noticing the mixed looks of excitement and apprehension on their faces. Except on Virgil's face. His middle son still wore a pained expression, and his eyes were saddened and dim. _What's wrong with Virgil? I thought he'd be ecstatic to hear that his quick-thinking paid off. If it weren't for him, Alan would never have made it to hospital in time to have his appendix removed, even I can work out that much. I hope he's not still blaming himself. That kid aims far too high. Nobody's perfect, and he has to understand that or he'll never trust his judgement again. I'll have to have a little word with him later._

They finally came to a stop in front of a door. A window to the right would have allowed them to look into the room, but the blinds had been pulled down so that nothing could be seen.

"Alright, this is Alan's ICU room." said Thomas, putting his hand on the fingerprint recognition panel. "I'll scan your fingerprints into the system later so that you can come in and out whenever you want to. Only hospital staff and family members will have access for the duration of Alan's stay, so the press shouldn't give you any trouble."

"I ought to warn you, though." Thomas continued. "We have Alan hooked up to quite a few machines in there to monitor his condition. We had to put him on a respirator during the operation, but he was taken off it a few minutes ago and the oxygen mask that replaced it is only temporary. He's unconscious, and will remain so for at least another twelve hours. His body has been through a heck of a lot today. But he'll be alright, and there's nothing to worry about. OKay, you guys ready?"

Jeff nodded, feeling his heart begin to thud in his chest again. He just wanted to hold his baby boy and never let him go. "Yeah, we're ready." he said huskily.

Thomas nodded and pressed the button to release the doors. Jeff took a deep breath, suddenly feeling a little light-headed, and stepped into the room.

_TBC..._

* * *

**_What will Jeff think when he sees his baby boy in such a weak and vulnerable state? How will the other boys react to seeing their little brother after the stressful evening that they have endured? Will Virgil continue to hide his feelings from his family, or will he come clean and allow Jeff and the others to comfort him? And what will Scott do when he comes face-to-face with a nosy reporter? Find out in tomorrow's chapter!_**

**_Okay, that one's finally finished! Woo, I'm tired now. Again, sorry for the late update, I'm afraid the rest of my life comes before fanfiction (well, maybe not all of it!)_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW with any comments, complaints, criticisms, compliments or questions that you might have about my story! Love you all, faithful followers!_**

**_x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x_**


	11. Chapter 11: Blowing the Fuse

**_Whoopee! Chapter eleven is up! _**

**_Big thanks and gold stars go to criminally charmed for spotting a couple of typos that I'd missed, I'm glad that you took a big enough interest in my story to want to point them out for me! And big hugs to Lissysue85 for being so supportive and hyper! Lol. This chapter is for you guys!_**

**_Okay, enough waffle! On with the show!_**

* * *

Jeff had been psyching himself up for this moment, but it hadn't really helped. As he moved into the room ahead of Thomas and his sons, he managed to get a good look at his baby boy, and gasped in shock. Alan was pale and unmoving, his eyes closed and his nose and mouth obscured by the oxygen mask. Wires traveled down from monitors and machines above the bed, connecting to the skin in different places on the boy's chest and arms. The IV line in Alan's left arm was attached to a bag of fluids, which hung from a hook on the wall. And Alan was still. So, so still.

Jeff rushed forward to the unconscious form, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Alan's small, limp hand in his own. With his other hand, he ran the back of his fingers down his son's clammy cheek.

"Hi, baby." he whispered softly. "It's alright, daddy's here. I'm here, Allie. It's gonna be alright."

He didn't know whether or not Alan could hear what he was saying, but the words helped to comfort Jeff as much as they would have done Alan. His boy was alive and breathing, and for now that would do. But the sight of his lively, energetic son so subdued and weak was heartbreaking to the multi-billionaire ex-astronaut. He'd give all the money in the world just to see his baby boy laughing and joking again.

"His blood pressure's low." Virgil commented worriedly. Whereas the rest of Jeff's sons had moved to stand or kneel at the bedside, Virgil had gone straight to the diagnostic panels on the wall next to the bed. "Shouldn't we be worried about that?"

Thomas came to stand behind him, putting a hand on Virgil's shoulder. "That's a normal reaction, Virge." he said softly. "The effect that an emergency appendectomy has on young children can often lead to a drop in blood pressure. It will begin to rise as his body adapts to the changes in neural impulses being sent from the affected area."

"Are you sure?" Virgil continued, a slight note of panic in his voice. "Are you sure it's not internal bleeding or-"

"Virgil, calm down." Thomas said gently, turning the teenager around on the spot and looking him in the eye. "Alan's surgery went smoothly, and we triple-checked the sutures before we closed him up. He'll be fine_._"

Jeff glanced up at his middle-child in concern. _What's the matter with Virgil? Why is he being so paranoid about Alan's condition? Hmm. I'm definitely going to have to have a little chat with him about this later on. There's something he's trying to hide from the rest of us. Something that's really getting to him._

"How long will he have to stay in hospital, Tom?" asked Scott, dragging Jeff out of his own thoughts and back to the present situation.

"Because his appendix burst, we'd usually need to keep him in for about three weeks, just as a precaution." Thomas began, coming to stand at the end of the bed and looking at Alan's pale face.

"Three weeks?!" cried Gordon. Virgil nodded, coming to crouch beside his copper-haired brother.

"Yeah, that's how long he has to keep up the course of antibiotics, right Tom?" he explained tonelessly, glancing up at the doctor for confirmation.

"That's right." Thomas stated. "However, as I was about to say, Alan won't need to stay in the hospital for the duration of his recovery."

"He won't?" asked Gordon, looking surprised. "Why not?"

"Brains is qualified to continue his treatment in the infirmary on the island." Thomas explained. "And so is Virgil, for that matter. It's only a case of monitoring his temperature and administering the antibiotics via injection. I can teach Virgil how to perform the procedure sometime this week, now is as good a time to learn as any."

Jeff noticed that Virgil blanched as the doctor spoke, his hazel eyes filling with an emotion that Jeff could not identify. The Tracy patriarch began to wonder if Virgil was perhaps feeling unwell. His skin was looking a lot paler than usual, but perhaps that was merely because of the stress all the boys had been under during the evening.

"Um - dad?"

Jeff's head snapped round to Scott, who was wearing a slight frown. "Yes, Scotty? What is it?" he asked.

"Um - not meaning to sound dumb or anything but - did you remember to tell Brains about Alan?" Scott ventured nervously.

Jeff felt his body tense up. _Oh darn. I knew there was something important I'd forgotten to do! I hope he hasn't tried to call in on me. With any luck, he decided to leave discussing the conference details until the morning. Please let that be the case! The last thing I want is Brains getting into a panic because he can't find me. Although, if he had been at all worried, he would surely have phoned earlier. _

Thomas chuckled. "Don't sweat it, Jeff. I'll give him a call and inform him of the situation." he said.

"Thanks, Tom." Jeff sighed, relaxing again and placing his hand on Alan's arm. "So, if Alan can go home early, how long _will_ he have to stay here?"

Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Depending, of course, on how quickly his body begins to recover from the ordeal," he began, picking up the electronic hand-held notepad from its slot at the end of the bed and scanning through the notes. "I'd say about eight or nine days in the hospital at least."

Jeff grimaced slightly. _Alan's not gonna like that. He's just as stubborn as Scott when it comes to staying in bed for long periods of time. I remember when Allie was still only a toddler, and both he and Scott got sick at the same time. Man, Lucy and I had our work cut out for us. Scott was nearly fourteen, and Alan was only three. I've never had so much trouble with my kids at any one time, as I did that week. Well, at least Alan was small enough to carry around in my arms. I had to practically drag Scott back inside the house and into bed. Oh Lucy, thank you for helping me create five wonderful, stubborn children! It really wouldn't be the same without all our little arguments. It just makes me love them all the more._

"Right, I'm gonna go and call Brains." said Thomas, pressing a button on the panel beside the door. "Oh, and due to the fact that we need to keep Alan under close observation, there will be a nurse in the room at all times, okay? But they'll stand back and give you some privacy, and will only check Alan's vitals occasionally. You won't even notice they're there most of the time."

As he said this, Suzie stepped through the doors, smiling casually. Her smile brightened when she saw the Tracy family gathered around the bed.

"Hello again!" she said cheerfully, before turning to Thomas and regaining her neutral expression. "You called me, Dr. Palmar?"

"Suzie!" he groaned lightly. "My name is Tom, _not_ 'Dr. Palmar'! Anyway, would you please remain here to monitor Alan's condition until your shift is over? Be sure to have Abbie or Melissa replace you before you leave. I think they've treated one of the Tracy boys before, so they've had some practical training when it comes to handling them."

Thomas winked at Jeff, then turned and left the room. Jeff smiled in amusement. _Oh yes, I'm sure Melissa and Abbie had remember all the trouble they had in preventing Scott from leaving the hospital, the last time he was in here. He'd sustained second-degree burns and a concussion from getting caught in a small explosion whilst working on Thunderbird 1's booster relay systems. Brains had been away at the time, so I had flown Scott to the hospital in Tracy One in order to get him checked over by a professional. I might have basic EMT knowledge from my days with NASA, but I'm no doctor. Huh, Scott wasn't so happy about having to stay here for a couple of days. Not happy at all. The nurses were preparing to use restraints before Thomas arrived and managed to get Scott to comply with the treatment. I think Tom would have been the only person that Scott would have listened to, apart from myself, but I wasn't allowed into the treatment room. When it comes to my eldest boy, stubborn just doesn't do him justice._

Suzie smiled at them as she checked the diagnostic panels, nodding her head in approval. "Considering how serious the appendectomy was, he's doing remarkably well. Although he still has a long way to go until he's fully covered, he's making good progress." she commented. Jeff thanked her, and she went to make notes in the electronic notepad, sitting in a chair at the far corner of the ICU room so that the family had a little more privacy.

Jeff's sons pulled up chairs and sat around the bed, regarding Alan silently and occasionally reaching out to gently caress an arm or a leg. The tension Jeff had felt radiating from each of his boys had dissipated almost entirely, with the exception of Virgil. And this worried Jeff slightly. Virgil was always the last person to give in to stress, and the first person to return to his old self after a troubling event. He had always been this way, even as a young boy. After an argument with one of his brothers, Virgil would have always be the first one to apologise, the first one to forgive. And, along with Gordon, he was always the first person to begin laughing again. But now? Now he seemed withdrawn from the rest of the group, wrapped up in his own little world of pain. It just wasn't right.

Jeff looked up at his other sons, smiling when he saw that Gordon had fallen asleep with his upper body pillowed on the mattress beside Alan's legs. Releasing his baby boy's hand momentarily, he turned to the copper-haired teenager on his right and stroked the soft hair gently in an attempt to awaken him from his exhausted slumber.

"Gordon?" he called softly, his fingers playing with the copper strands. His second-youngest stirred, raising his head from his arms and blinking dazedly up at Jeff.

"Wha-? What's wrong, did something happen?" he asked worriedly, his eyes darting towards Alan's pale face in concern. Jeff chuckled softly at his sons reaction, shaking his head.

"Relax, Gordon." he soothed. "Everything's fine. Look, you're exhausted. All of you are. It's nearly-" he looked down at his watch, "Quarter past three in the morning. You need to go and get some sleep."

Immediately, John, Scott and Gordon began to protest. Jeff held up a hand. "No arguments, kids." he stated. Scott glared at him in defiance.

"Dad, I am _not_ a kid!" he argued. "I turn twenty-one soon! Can't I stay?"

"If he gets to stay, I get to stay." John declared firmly. Jeff shook his head again and smiled.

"None of you are staying." he said, his voice calm but with enough authority to show his sons that this was not a request, but an order. He knew that his boys wanted to watch over their baby brother, but he couldn't be worrying over all five of his children at the same time. Each one of them needed rest, especially Virgil and Gordon.

"But dad-" Scott began.

"Not buts, Scotty." Jeff interrupted. "Now, I want you to take your brothers to the hotel across the road and get yourselves a couple of rooms, okay? And tomorrow, we'll see about getting you all some clothes from the mall in the city-centre."

Scott shook his head. "No need, dad. We brought our emergency bags with us, remember? They have a couple of spare changes of clothes and stuff like that. We should be fine for a few days, then I can fly back to the island and pick up some more belongings when we need them."

Jeff blinked at Scott's apparent control over the situation. He felt a surge of pride at how organised and quick-thinking his eldest son had been in getting all the boys together like that.

"Alright, son." he said, reaching into his pocket and taking his credit card from his wallet. "Go grab the bags from the jet, then head across the road to the hotel. I don't want to see any of you back here for at least six hours, is that clear?"

"Yes, dad." three voices chorused glumly. Virgil remained silent, his eyes glazed over slightly as he gazed unseeingly at Alan's face.

"Virgil, you okay? Jeff inquired softly. The chestnut-haired teenager jumped slightly, his gaze snapping up to look at his father.

"Um- sorry? What was that?" he asked wearily. Jeff regarded him in concern for a moment, taking in the pale skin and blood-shot eyes. _He just needs to sleep, and to get rid of all the tension. Our chat can wait until later, when he's a little more responsive._

"Virgil, you and your brothers are going to get a couple of rooms in the hotel across the way." Jeff informed him gently. "You all need sleep. I know you're worried about Alan, but Tom said that there's nothing to be concerned about. There's no point in making yourselves sick by refusing to sleep. And the last thing that this hospital needs is _five_ stubborn Tracy patients!"

Gordon laughed, Scott and John chuckled, and even Virgil managed a weak smile. Feeling victorious in raising his boys spirits, Jeff pulled Gordon into a standing postion and patted him on the back with the hand that wasn't holding Alan's.

"Off you go, boys." he said gently. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Dad, it is the morning." Gordon smiled cheekily, as John and Scott also got to their feet. Jeff gave him a gentle shove towards the door.

"Be gone with you, boy." he chuckled warmly. Gordon grinned, then stopped and quickly returned to the bedside, leaning down and planting a swift kiss on Alan's forehead.

"G'night, Allie." he murmured. "Sweet dreams."

Jeff felt touched by the gentle affections of his - usually - most boisterous son. _This is a side to Gordon that I haven't seen in a while. In fact, I haven't seen it since that horrible day when he and Alan got lost in the jungle during that tropical storm. Man, I really thought I'd lose them both that day. Thank God that Gordon remained calm enough to direct Alan back to the house. If they had died, I would never have forgiven myself. And it was so soon after losing Lucy, too. That was the day that I made up my mind to begin building International Rescue, so that other families would never have to suffer the way that mine had. _

Gordon stepped back from the bed, but was soon replaced by John. Bending down, the older blond gently caressed Alan's cheek, brushing a kiss over his blond locks.

"I'll see you in a few hours, kiddo." he said softly. "I'll be right here when you wake up. Sleep well, little man."

Virgil, who had remained seated at the bedside, leaned forward and ran his fingers through Alan's hair. When John stepped back, he bent down so that his mouth was close to Alan's ear.

"I'm sorry, Sprout." Jeff heard him whisper. Then straightening up slightly and brushing the tears from his eyes, he strode from the room. Jeff blinked in surprise.

_Virgil was crying? I haven't seen Virgil cry in years. And what was he apologising for? Hmm. I'm worried about this, something just doesn't feel right. He never allows himself to become this upset. _

Looking up at his other sons, Jeff noticed that they, too, were wearing expressions of surprise and concern. Scott stepped forward quickly and leaned over the bed, planting a few soft kisses on Alan's forehead.

"Goodnight, little one." he murmured affectionately. "I love you. Sleep tight, and I'll see you later, okay? Don't go doing anything that I wouldn't do, alright? That's my boy."

With another quick caress, he stood up. Jeff smiled at him lovingly, grabbing Scott's wrist and pulling his son to lean across the bed towards him.

"Scotty, see if you can find out what's bothering Virgil, will you?" he whispered softly. "I was planning on having a little chat with him, but he doesn't seem to want to talk to anybody at the moment. He might open up to you, though."

Scott nodded his head. "Sure thing, dad. But I can't promise any results. Virgil can be a pretty tough nut to crack when he's trying to hide his feelings away."

Jeff also nodded, realising that Scott was correct. Even though Virgil and Scott were close, Virgil would keep everybody at arms-length when he was trying to hide something from the outside world.

"Alright boys, I'll see you later." said Jeff. "Goodnight."

"'Night, dad." came the three replies, almost in unison. Jeff watched his sons leave the room, before returning his gaze to the small boy on the bed.

"Just you and me now, kiddo." he murmured, running a hand through the blond hair. "And I'm not going anywhere. Man, you really had me worried. I thought I'd lost you, baby. You have to make me a promise, okay? Promise me that you won't ever be in this much danger again, alright?"

Jeff smiled at his absurd request, shaking his head. "What am I saying? I might as well ask for flying pigs."

Then he chuckled, very glad indeed that Gordon had already left the room. There was only a certain number of times that Jeff would stand hearing that joke, and for Gordon's own safety it was a good thing he had not heard Jeff's last comment. Sometimes, Jeff mused, he really needed to think before he spoke.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Scott was lost. Officially, unmistakably, completely and utterly - lost.

"Scotty, maybe we should ask that nurse over there for directions!" John called, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the busy emergency department.

Scott nodded, glancing quickly at Virgil, who was leaning against a wall and regarding the hustle and bustle with a blank expression. "You guys wait here." he said, pushing Gordon and John towards where Virgil was standing. "I'll go and ask."

He made his way through the crowd of patients and porters, approaching a middle-aged, motherly-looking nurse. "Excuse me?" he asked politely. She turned to him and smiled kindly.

"Yes, sir? Is there something I can do for you?" she inquired softly. Scott smiled sheepishly.

"I - um - I appear to be lost." he stammered, feeling a little embarrassed. He very rarely became lost, and asking for directions was a new experience for him. He usually just wandered around until he found what he was looking for, his pride refusing to let him ask for help. However, after noticing how pale Virgil was becoming, he had decided that they needed to get out of the noisy hospital as quickly as possible.

"Where are you trying to get to, dear?" the nurse asked, handing a notepad to a passing doctor without her gaze ever leaving Scott's face.

"My brothers and I need to find the exit onto landing strip B." Scott explained. "Could you please give us the directions?"

"Of course." she smiled. "It's not far from here actually. Down that corridor on you left, then turn right when you reach the end. That should take you out onto landing strip B, unless somebody's moved it since I was last there."

Scott smiled. "Thank you, mam." he said gratefully, turning around to go back towards his brothers. However, he found his path blocked by a man in a navy suit.

"Scott Tracy!" he exclaimed, pulling another man over. To Scott's horror, the second man held a camera.

"Mr. Tracy, what a pleasure to meet you! My name is Nathaniel Rivers." the first man said, holding up a small microphone. "We have heard rumours, from an anonymous source, suggesting that your youngest brother, Alan Shephard Tracy, has been taken ill this evening. Can you confirm or deny these claims?"

Scott felt his patience slipping away fast. He remembered Nathaniel Rivers from his junior Air-Force training last summer. The idiotic man had tried to snap photographs of him alongside the other officers. Of course, the security cameras had spotted them and the police had confiscated the film. But still, Rivers had written a ridiculous article about Scott's dreams to 'become lead commander at Boston air-base'. It had, of course, been a complete piece of fiction, as Scott had not even spoken a word to the reporter/journalist during his training.

"Look, Rivers, I haven't got the patience to speak to you right now." he said, trying to remain calm. "I'm in a bit of a hurry. Go and spy on somebody else."

With that, he pushed passed the reporter and made his way back to the rest of hi family. John, who had witnessed the whole thing, raised an eyebrow at him as they began to walk down the corridor the nurse had shown him.

"I didn't say anything rude." Scott said, defensively. "And, considering that he was the jerk who wrote that ridiculous article on me last year, I think I was very restrained."

John smiled at him. "Glad to hear it. Besides, they shouldn't have been in here anyway. I noticed a couple of security officers heading their way before we left. I think he's about to get thrown out of the hospital."

"Good." Scott replied gruffly, glancing over at Virgil once again. His younger brother hadn't said anything since they had found him waiting in the hall outside of Alan's ICU room, and Scott was worried about him. He hadn't seen Virgil this withdrawn in years.

"Aha! See, asking for directions _does_ help, Scooter!"

Scott laughed at John's smug expression, shaking his head. "Alright, this one time it _did_ help. But that's the last time I ask for directions, you hear?"

They left through the exit and stepped out onto the landing strip, walking towards Tracy One. Scott turned to Virgil and Gordon. "You guys wait here." he said. "John and I will grab the bags."

As Scott began to walk away, he heard Gordon mutter something hurriedly to Virgil, before jogging after him. "I'm coming with you." he stated. Scott raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" he asked curiously. "You don't often volunteer to do the work. What's wrong, are you sick?"

Gordon swatted his arm playfully. "No, I'm perfectly fine, thank you." he replied, before casting a quick glance over his shoulder and lowering his voice. "I'm worried about Virge. He doesn't look so good."

Scott nodded his head slightly, reaching up to help John unlock the hatch on the jet. "I know, Gordo. I'm worried about Virge, too. I think he's still blaming himself for Al getting so sick."

"But that's not his fault!" Gordon protested, reaching up and catching the bag that John threw down.

"We know, fish-feet." John sighed, handing two bags to Scott. "But Virgil has a habit of pushing himself too hard. It's a Tracy thing. He asks too much of himself, that's the problem. He's only sixteen, but he expects himself to be able to do everything."

"I'll have a chat with him when we get to the hotel." said Scott, catching the last of the duffel bags as John dropped them and jumped down from the hatch. "Okay, we good to go?"

"Yup! I take it that you're gonna want to share a room with Virge then, Scotty?" Gordon asked, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that'd probably be-"

"Scott!"

At John's worried, cry, Scott turned to where his blond brother was pointing. At the entrance to the hospital, Nathaniel Rivers stood, a microphone thrust in Virgil's face and a camera directed at the young Tracy. Scott growled deeply in his throat, dropping the bags and striding swiftly towards the hospital doors.

"...and we have heard reports that your younger brother is, in fact, on _'death's door'_, so to speak." Nathaniel was saying. "Can you confirm these suspicions?"

Virgil just stood there, looking pale and nervous, unable to say a word. Scott strode up behind him and put an arm around Virgil's shoulders, feeling worried when he felt his younger brother shaking beneath him. Turning towards the reporter, he glared at Nathaniel darkly.

"Look, pal, I'm going to give you three seconds to walk away." he said fiercely. "If you're not gone by the time I get to 'three', I will not be held responsible for my actions."

The reporter hardly seemed to blink, he merely smiled in interest. "Ah, hello again, Mr. Tracy!" he said cheerfully. "You brother and I were just discussing the rumour that young Alan Tracy is not expected to recover from his ordeal. Is this true? What do you have to say about these claims?"

"Listen, buster!" Scott growled. "You are one second away from being decked! Now, I'll only ask you one more time - leave my family alone!"

"Mr. Tracy," the reporter continued, seemingly oblivious to the way that Scott's hands were curling into fists. "Have you noticed just how pale young Virgil here is looking? Perhaps he's coming down with the same illness as your youngest brother. Perhaps all the Tracy's will suffer from this mysterious illness. What is your opinion on this matter?"

John and Gordon, who had come up behind Scott, glared at the reporter with equal distaste. Seeing the dangerous glint in his older brother's eye, John stepped in front of Scott and held up his hands towards Nathaniel.

"Look, Rivers, my brother is not in the mood to listen to the likes of you right now." he said stiffly. "I suggest that you and your friend leave us alone."

Again, the idiotic reporter turned to the blond-haired Tracy, ignoring the low growl that came from Scott's throat.

"John Tracy!" he exclaimed. "Perhaps you could tell me, in you own words, exactly why your youngest brother has found himself in hospital this evening? Was there a domestic accident? And where is your father? Surely Jeff Tracy, the multi-billionaire owner of Tracy industries, would manage to fly a few miles to be at the bedside of his youngest son? Or perhaps your father is still grieving over the loss of your mother, and being in a hospital reminds him too much of her tragic death?"

Scott snapped. Pushing John aside, he spun around and kicked the camera right out of the other man's hands. Grabbing Nathaniel by the front of his suit, he pinned him against the wall.

"Don't you _ever _mention my mother again, d'you hear?! Unless you want to find that microphone shoved somewhere rather uncomfortable." he warned fiercely. "Now, take your camera and get out of this city. Because if I ever see your obnoxious little face again, I'll make sure my fist says hello to your nose, got it?!"

Nathaniel swallowed nervously, nodding his head. "Alright, pal. Take it easy."

Scott released him, breathing heavily, and turned back towards the rest of his family. Noticing that Virgil was still shaking slightly, he put an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's go." he said softly, leading him away from the cowering reporter and around the side of the hospital. They walked in silence for several minutes, Scott attempting to slow his racing heart down again. He glanced over at Virgil beside him, frowning in concern when he noticed the tears in the teenager's eyes.

_If Rivers ever comes within a thousand feet of my family again, I'll make him wish he'd never been born. He's really upset Virge, I haven't seen the kid this traumatized in a long while. Perhaps Rivers said something to him before I got there. Something that's really affected him. Oh man, I should have beaten that darn reporter into a pulp! It's not as though I didn't give him warning!_

Scott pulled Virgil a little closer to his side as they walked. Yes, he was definitely going to have a little chat with his younger brother. For both their sakes. Scott wasn't going to be able to sleep until he knew that Virgil was alright. And, for that matter, Virgil wouldn't sleep until the situation was resolved, either. Knowing how stubborn Virgil could be, it was going to be a while before ether of them got to bed.

* * *

**_What will Scott say to Virgil? Will he be able to talk some sense into our distraught Tracy boy? And what happens when Virgil cannot sleep and returns to the hospital? Will Jeff have any better luck with him than Scott did? Find out in tomorrows tearful chapter!_**

**_Okay, all done! Thank you everybody for reading this (rather long) chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! PLEASE REVIEW and give me all your feedback! Love ya lots!_**


	12. Chapter 12: Guilty Consciences

**_Righty-ho! Sorry this chapter is a little late, I went shopping all morning (new shoes rock!). Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Be prepared for lots of emotional fluff!_**

**_And a note for those who don't know, I am basing Alan's predicament on my own dreadful experience when I was younger. Sadly, I did not live on an island with a state-of-the-art infirmary, so I was forced to remain in hospital for nearly three weeks. It was NOT a pleasant experience, in the slightest. _**

**_Okay, on with the show!_**

* * *

Virgil sat down on one of the single beds in the room that he and Scott were sharing. Kicking off his shoes, he unzipped the bag at his feet and rummaged around until he found the wash-bag and his pyjamas.

"I'm gonna take a shower." he mumbled, not daring to look up at his older brother. He could feel Scott's worried gaze following him as he stood up and headed into the bathroom. Virgil knew that the junior Air-force pilot was not going to let him go to bed until they'd had a 'heart-to-heart', as Scott liked to call it.

_But how can I tell him about all this? I'm so confused at the moment, I don't even know what emotion I'm feeling, if in fact I'm feeling anything at all. Do the other guys blame me for what happened? They have the right to. I'd taken the training, I knew the symptoms, I'd read about the signs - but I still couldn't spot it in time. Alan's appendix burst. He could have died, for goodness sakes! He could have died, and it would have been my fault! I just need him to wake up so that I can tell him how sorry I am. I need to know that he forgives me for letting him down like that._

Virgil leaned against the wall of the shower and sighed wearily as the warm water cascaded over him. Closing his eyes, he allowed the salty tears to mingle with the water as they both ran down his face. _You're a failure, Virgil Tracy. The one time when your family really needed you, and you let them down. How can you expect them to forgive you after what you've done?_

And now the feeling was back again. The painful, cold feeling that seemed to encase his heart as it spread through his chest, making it difficult to breathe. If Scott hadn't been in the room next door, Virgil was sure that he would have broken down and sobbed. However, he had to stay strong for his brothers. He had to help them recover from all the worry and stress that they had experienced over the past few hours. It was his duty.

Turning off the shower, he quickly toweled himself dry and slipped into his pyjama shorts and T-shirt. Pausing in front of the mirror momentarily, he was met with a pale and tired-looking reflection, whose blood-shot eyes were dull and without life. He looked a mess. He needed sleep, but he knew perfectly well that it was unlikely he would get more than a few hours. His emotions were still running too high. As he brushed his teeth, he could not stop thinking about where it had all gone wrong. He should have paid closer attention to Alan when his baby brother had complained of feeling sick. He should have run a full body scan in the infirmary, and he should have asked Alan directly if his stomach hurt.

_But I did. I did ask him. And then he threw up in the bathroom before I could get an answer. After that, I guess I forgot. He fell back asleep, and I was too busy comparing his illness to Chris' to realise the truth. Darn it, it was so obvious! How could I have been so stupid?!_

Unlocking the bathroom door, he went back into the bedroom and dropped his clothes and wash-bag onto the table beside his bed. Sinking down onto the mattress, he put his head in his hands and scrubbed his face wearily. He felt the bed sag slightly as somebody sat down beside him, and an arm snaked its way around his shoulders.

"You okay, buddy?" Scott asked gently. Virgil didn't even bother to look up, he merely kept his eyes hidden by his hands and exhaled forcefully. _No, I'm not alright. I'm about as far from 'alright' as it is humanly possible to get. But I can't tell you that. You're already worried about Alan, worrying about a second person will only make you even more stressed than you already are._

"Virge?" Scott pressed, giving him a gentle squeeze. "C'mon, man, speak to me. Please? I'm worried about you."

Virgil took a deep breath, composing himself and plastering a fake smile onto his face. Raising his head from his hands, he rested it on Scott's shoulder. "I'm okay, Scooter." he murmured. "I'm just - just worried about Alan, I guess."

Scott's face softened, and he held Virgil closer to him. "I know, Virge." he said gently. "So am I. But - are you sure that there's nothing else bothering you? I haven't seen you this stressed in a long time. Especially after Rivers spoke to you. What did he say? You looked positively sick. You know everything that guy said was a load of rubbish, right?"

Virgil closed his eyes against the wave of pain that washed over him. _No it wasn't. It definitely wasn't, because every word he said to me was so close to the truth. "Reports have been heard that your younger brother nearly lost his life earlier this evening..."; that's what Rivers said to me. "How does this make you feel? Will Alan survive..." And how does it make me feel? Like a failure. Like the biggest failure in the history of the Tracy family. And Rivers was right. My baby brother nearly died earlier on. Had his appendix been removed any later than it was, acute peritonitis would surely have set in, and that is usually fatal with children as young as Allie._

He felt an arm coming around his front to grasp his other shoulder, pulling him around to face Scott. His older brother's expression was one of worry and concern, and Virgil realised that he hadn't yet answered Scott's question.

"Virgil, you're not alright." Scott stated worriedly, his eyes studying Virgil's pale and drawn face in concern. "What did that jerk say to you? Virge please, tell me what's wrong!"

Virgil felt tears spring into his eyes, and tried hurriedly to brush them away. He was _not_ going to cry in front of Scott. He hadn't done that in years.

"It's nothing, Scooter." he croaked softly, trying to pull away from his older brother. "I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"Virgil, don't shut me out like this." Scott begged desperately. "I can't help you if you don't want to be helped."

"Who says I want your help?!" Virgil shot back angrily, then clamped his mouth shut. He felt guilt rising up inside of him at the look of hurt that passed across Scott's face.

"Alright then." Scott said softly. "But if you want to talk, I'm here."

He stood up to walk away, and Virgil reached out to grab his arm at the last second. _What the heck am I doing? I'm supposed to be trying to help my brothers, not yell at them! But man, I really don't wanna talk about this. Well, maybe Scott doesn't blame me for what happened. He's not that kind of person. Perhaps he'll forgive me._

"Scotty wait, please?" he said asked, his tear-filled eyes staring up guiltily at his older brother. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Please don't go."

Scott frowned in concern, dropping back down onto the bed and pulling Virgil into a hug. Virgil buried his face in Scott's shirt and clung to him tightly, feeling safe and secure in the gentle embrace.

"It's alright, Virge." Scott soothed. "You can let go. You need to get it out of your system."

Virgil clung tighter to the the broad shoulders. He knew he needed to cry. Hell, he _wanted_ to cry. But the tears would not fall. He had no right to be comforted by Scott when Alan lay unconscious in a hospital bed.

Scott held him for several minutes, and Virgil's eyes became heavier and heavier with fatigue. "Virgil?" Scott said gently, breaking the comfortable silence. "You still awake down there?"

Virgil grunted softly. _Yeah, but not for long. Man, I'm so tired. I need to sleep. Maybe things won't seem so bad in the morning. Huh, it is the morning. Real smart aren't you, Virge?_

Scott pushed him away at arms-length and looked into his eyes, a small smile playing across his face. "Feel better?" he asked.

"Yeah, a little." Virgil replied. This was not entirely true. Although Scott's gentle embrace had assured Virgil that his older brother did not blame him for what had happened, the sense of guilt and shame had not lessened within Virgil's chest.

"You look awful." Scott commented, his fingers playing with Virgil's chestnut hair.

"Look in the mirror, bro." Virgil mumbled wearily. "You're not exactly an oil painting, either."

Scott grinned and gave him a gentle squeeze. "You need to go to sleep, little brother." he said softly. "Will you be alright?"

Virgil nodded, pulling away from Scott and yawning. "I'll be fine, Scotty. I just need time to think about - stuff."

Scott nodded, standing up and stretching. "Okay, Virge. Sweet dreams." he said, ruffling Virgil's hair once more and heading towards the bathroom. Before he closed the door, he turned and grinned at his younger brother. "Oh, and Virge?"

Virgil, who had pulled back the duvet and scooted down under the covers, propped himself up on his elbows and regarded his older sibling as he stood in the bathroom doorway. "Yeah?"

"You and I are gonna finish our little chat when we wake up, right?" Scott smiled. "Don't think I'm dropping the matter this easily. There's something that's bothering you, and I'm gonna find out. But for now, go to sleep, okay? I promise, things won't feel so bad when you wake up. Most of the stress is probably just because you're tired. Get some rest, buddy. Goodnight."

Virgil managed to hide his grimace. "Okay. 'Night, Scotty." he replied, before sinking into the soft pillow and closing his eyes. He heard the bathroom door shutting and let out a sigh. _Scott's gonna keep asking me until I crack, I know what he's like. But I can't tell him, I just can't! Hmm, maybe he's right. Maybe I do just need to get some rest._

And with that, he allowed his weary body and mind to be dragged down into the comforting peace of sleep.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Virgil opened his heavy eyelids, blinking sleepily at the strange room around him. _How did I get here? Where is 'here'? What happened?_

Then like a tidal-wave of pain crashing over him, the memories from the past twenty-four hours came flooding back. He sat bolt-upright in bed, his heart hammering in his chest. _Alan! Is he alright? Oh darn, I should never have left the hospital! I need to see him, now! I need to make sure he's okay!_

Grabbing his watch and clothes from the bedside table, Virgil realised that it was nearly seven o'clock. _Hmm. I've been asleep for less than three hours, then. No wonder I feel so exhausted. But I can't stay here, I have to go and see Alan!_

Dressing as quickly and quietly as possible, he crept passed the sleeping form of his big brother and tip-toed softly out of the door. Walking swiftly, he exited the hotel and made his way to the main hospital entrance. The emergency department was nearly empty, and the background noise wasn't even a fraction of what it had been like a few hours ago. Striding up to the reception desk, he plastered a fake smile onto his face and looked towards a young nurse.

"Excuse me?" he began. The nurse smiled back at him, tucking a notepad into her pocket and setting down a large wad of papers.

"Hello, sir." she smiled. "How may I help you?"

"Um, I was wondering if you could direct me to the private ICU rooms." Virgil asked timidly. "My baby brother, Alan Tracy, was moved up there last night after having an emergency appendectomy." The words caught in his throat, and he swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "I'm afraid I've completely forgotten the way to his room, could you possibly give me directions?"

The nurse glanced down at a computer screen in front of her, pressing the touch-pad and skimming over the contents of the file. "That room is sectioned off to family members and medical personnel only." she murmured, moreto herself than to Virgil. "Your name, please?" she asked.

"Oh - um - Virgil Tracy." he said hesitantly, caught off-guard by the question.

"And your favourite colour?" she continued, pressing another icon on the screen. Virgil frowned, wondering why the nurse was asking such strange questions.

"Well it's - it's green." he mumbled. "But why do you want to-?"

"What nickname do you most commonly use when addressing your eldest sibling?" she continued, frowning in concentration as she pressed another button.

"Well - um - I guess I call him - um - 'Scooter' a lot of the time." Virgil stuttered nervously, thinking that perhaps it had been a bad idea to ask for directions.

"Yep, you apparently are who you claim to be." she stated, smiling brightly and handing him a small card. "This is a security pass. Dr. Palmar set up a secure system in which we can identify which of you are Tracy's and which of you are merely reporters trying to get a good photograph."

"But I thought there were fingerprint recognition panels outside the door." said Virgil, trying to think back to what Thomas had told them.

"That's right, Mr. Tracy." the nurse continued. "But yourself and your brothers are yet to be entered into the system as recognised relatives of Alan Tracy. That's why Dr. Palmar instructed me to hand one of these-" she indicated the card in Virgil's hand, "to any Tracy who comes up to the desk."

"Oh, I see." said Virgil, relieved that the quick-fire questions had ended. "Well, in that case, could you - um - could you show me up to the ICU room, please? If, that is, it's not too much trouble."

"Yes of course, dear." the nurse cooed, picking up the wad of papers again. "I'm heading passed your brothers room, anyway. It's no trouble at all. Please, follow me."

She lead Virgil down a long corridor, before walking up two flights of stairs and along a shorter corridor. Virgil listened to her as she chatted merrily about nothing in particular, and he was glad of the distraction from the pain in his chest. He vaguely registered walking up a third flight of stairs, but his legs seemed to be moving of their own accord. He couldn't _feel _anything. He could hear the gentle murmur of voices as they walked down the corridor, he could see the flashing lights on the monitors as they passed by empty ICU rooms. But he couldn't _feel_ anything. The pain in his chest seemed to grasp all of his attention, numbing the rest of his body so that he felt trapped within himself.

"Here we are, dear." the nurse was saying cheerfully, and Virgil realised with a start that they had come to a halt outside the door of Alan's room. "Just push the security pass into that slot on the wall, and it will open the doors for you."

Virgil managed another weak smile. "Thank you, mam. Good day."

The nurse smiled at him. "Good day, sir. I'll drop by later and see if you need anything, but Melissa is already in there, I think. If you require anything, anything at all, she'll be happy to get it for you."

Virgil nodded his thanks, pressing the card into the slot beside the door. When the doors opened, he waved goodbye to the nurse and stepped inside. Again, he was forced to suck in a breath at the sight of his baby brother lying so still on the bed. Although the oxygen mask had been removed, there were still wires attached to his chest and arms.

"Mr. Tracy?"

Virgil turned towards the nurse who had called his name, smiling slightly in recognition. "Hey, Melissa." he said softly. "And please, call me Virgil. Unless you want to be addressing six 'Mr Tracys' over the next week?"

Melissa grinned. "You're probably right. Perhaps I'll just leave the title of 'Mr. Tracy' to your father." she said, indicating the form that was snoozing peacefully in the chair beside the bed, Alan's hand held gently in his own. Virgil felt a lump rising in his throat.

"Virgil, can I ask you a favour?" Melissa began. Virgil's head snapped back round to look at her, and he nodded his consent. "Could you keep an eye on his vitals whilst I go downstairs and fetch some reports from reception? Dr. Palmar says that you're knowledge in medicine is advanced enough to know when something is wrong. And I'll be gone no more than fifteen minutes. If you'd like, I could always call up another nurse to watch over him. But Dr. Palmar said you were cleared for performing this task if I had to leave for a short period of time."

Virgil felt his blood run cold. _Leave me here with Alan, alone? What if something happens? What if I screw up again? But perhaps a little while on my own with the Sprout will help me to calm down. Yeah, perhaps this is just what I need._

"Sure, I'll keep an eye on him." Virgil smiled, concealing his true emotions. Melissa returned his smile, her green eyes dancing.

"Thanks, Virgil." she said gratefully. "I owe you one. Alright, I'll be back in fifteen minutes, then. Don't go away."

Virgil smiled after her until the doors had '_swished' _closed once more, then his face fell into a worried frown. Turning around, he slowly approached the bed. He could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he neared the form of his baby brother. _I did this. It's my fault Alan's in this condition. Look what I've done to him._

He knelt down on the side opposite his sleeping father, reaching out a hand to stroke Alan's. His fingers brushed gently over the soft, pale skin, and Virgil gazed with pain-filled eyes into the peaceful face of the small blond boy before him. Suddenly, all the emotion and stress that had been building up inside of him over the last twenty-four hours was released in a rush. Tears pooled in his eyes, running down his cheeks as he tried his best not to make a sound. Soon, however, the emotions overwhelmed him, and he buried his face in in hands.

"I'm sorry, Sprout." he managed to gasp between sobs. "I'm so, so sorry."

He heard the scraping of a chair, but was too busy shaking with his own sobs to notice as his father stood up and moved around the side of the bed. He vaguely registered somebody kneeling down beside him, before he felt a loving pair of arms encircling his body, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

"Shhh, it's alright." Jeff soothed, rocking Virgil gently. "It's alright, kiddo. Just let it all out. It'll be okay."

Virgil removed his hands from his face and wrapped his arms around Jeff tightly. He wanted to tell his father everything. No, he _needed_ to tell his father everything. The pressure and pain was becoming too much to cope with, and he knew that Jeff would understand. _Dad always understands. He'll make it alright._

"Dad, I'm so s-sorry." he choked, coughing on his own tears. Jeff pulled him closer to his chest, frowning in concern at the uncharacteristic emotional outburst.

"Sorry about what, son?" he asked softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Virgil's back as he rocked the teenager gently.

Virgil pulled away from his father slightly, glancing up worriedly at the monitors above the bed. When he was satisfied that nothing was wrong, he turned back to Jeff and tried to wipe away the tears. "It's all my fault, dad." he croaked miserably. "I should have noticed that Alan had appendicitis."

Jeff frowned in confusion, keeping his hands on Virgil's shoulders and looking into his blood-shot hazel eyes. "But you did notice, Virge. You got him to hospital in time."

Virgil shook his head firmly. "No, I didn't get him here in time! His appendix ruptured!" he cried, more tears spilling down his cheeks. "He could have died, dad! He could have died and it would have been all my fault!"

Jeff put a hand either side of Virgil's face, feeling an ache in his heart at seeing his son so distraught. "Virgil, how is any of this your fault?" he asked. "You couldn't have stopped his appendix from becoming inflamed, you know that."

"But I should have realised earlier! I was such an idiot." Virgil continued bitterly. "I didn't work out what it was until it was in it's final stages. If I had actually used my brain, Alan would have gotten here hours earlier than he did! And then he would only need to be in a little while. But, because of me, he nearly died! I'm sorry, I've let everybody down!"

Jeff stared, wide-eyed, at his son. "Virgil, what are you talking about? You haven't let anybody down."

"Y-yes I have!" Virgil replied tearfully. "Rivers was right, Alan nearly died this evening. And if I-"

"Rivers?" Jeff cried, surprised. "Nathaniel Rivers? What's he got to do with all of this."

Virgil sniffed and took in a shaky breath. "He w-was outside the hospital trying to interview us."

Jeff glowered angrily. "Just wait until I get my hands on that good for nothing, idiotic, nosy, lying little-"

"But dad, he was right!" Virgil cried desperately. "Alan was at _'death's door'_ earlier on, and it was all because of me! I am such an idiot! After all the training and studying I did in order to learn medicine, and I missed the most obvious signs of appendicitis!" More tears cascaded down his wet cheeks and he began to sob again. "W-what sort of a brother am I? A bad one, that's what!"

Jeff pulled Virgil close to his chest and kissed his chestnut hair. "Son, listen to me." he said, his own voice constricted by emotion. "You, Virgil Tracy, are a smart, loving, and caring individual. You do everything you can to protect your brothers, and you always have. But son, you are only human. Nobody can go through life without making mistakes. You're being far too hard on yourself, and none of this is your fault, do you hear me? None of it."

He paused, listening sadly to Virgil's heart-breaking sobs. He'd had no idea that his middle-child was this upset over what had happened, and he'd never have guessed that Virgil would blame himself for Alan's hospitalisation. At least, he hadn't suspected that his son would blame himself to _this_ extent.

After a few moments, the sobs quietened down again, and Jeff gave a small chuckle. "You know what?" he smiled. "When I was on the NASA space station, Tom misdiagnosed my Veridean Fever as being a bad head-cold."

Virgil sniffed, raising his tear-stained face towards his father. "He did?"

Jeff nodded. "Yep. He didn't figure out that something was wrong until I collapsed in the mess hall later that day. Man, was he guilty. But he didn't let that guilt consume him, because he knew that my illness wasn't his fault. He didn't cause me to have the fever, he just made a tiny misdiagnosis that delayed my treatment for a few hours. And what really mattered was that he acted quickly and treated me in the sick-bay before the fever became any worse. And that's what you did with Alan. You found out what was wrong, you acted quickly, and you helped save your little brother's life."

Virgil felt relief flowing through him, as though somebody had removed all the ice-cold pain from his chest in a single moment, and he broke down once more. Jeff rubbed the back of his neck soothingly, resting his chin on top of Virgil's head.

"It's okay, son." he soothed, as the teenager cried into his shirt-front. "I'm here. It's alright."

After a few minutes, Virgil sat back up again, wiping his eyes. "Thanks, dad." he croaked weakly.

"For what, son?" Jeff asked, brushing the remainder of the tears away from Virgil's face.

"For not blaming me." came the reply. "I was worried that you and the guys were gonna hate me for letting you down like that."

Jeff looked shocked for moment. "Virgil, I would _never_ hate you, no matter what you did. And, as I've already said, you didn't '_do'_ anything! How on earth could you think that we'd hate you? I love you more than I can put into words, and I can't describe how proud I am of you over how quickly you acted back on the island."

"But I didn't-" Virgil began, but Jeff shushed him with a finger to his lips.

"Virgil, it was your diagnosis that saved Alan's life." he stated softly. "None of your brothers would have been able to identify his illness as appendicitis for a long while after Scott found him, and they certainly wouldn't have known what to do about it. The fact that you remained in control of the situation helped your family to keep themselves together. Believe me, Scott would have panicked if you hadn't been there. They trust you, Virgil. And they would never, ever blame you. In fact, when I tell Scott about this conversation, he's probably gonna beat himself up for allowing you to even _think_ that he hated you."

Virgil gave a watery chuckle, leaning his head against his father's shoulder and closing his weary eyes. "Is that before or after he sits on me and tells me what an idiot I am?"

Jeff laughed softly, running his fingers through Virgil's hair. "Well, that depends on-"

"DAD!"

The door had opened, and Scott had come charging into the room, a panicked look on his face. "Dad, I can't find Vir-" he stopped when he spotted his father and younger brother on the floor beside the bed. "-gil." he finished softly, his shoulders slumping in relief.

Virgil, who had been falling asleep on his father's shoulder, glanced up timidly at his older brother. "Hi, Scotty. It's alright, I'm- Oomph!"

Scott had darted over to where his brother sat and pulled him into a tight hug. "Don't you ever do that to me again, you hear?!" he said, his voice shaking slightly. "When I woke up and couldn't find you, I thought-" he broke off, taking a deep breath. "I had no idea where you were, I thought you'd run off someplace."

"Sorry." Virgil murmured. Scott pushed him away at arms-length and looked into his face worriedly.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, noticing the red-rimmed eyes and wet trails on Virgil's face. Virgil glanced up at his father and smiled.

"I will be, Scooter." he said softly. Jeff smiled down at his son, before pulling both Virgil and Scott towards him and hugging them tightly. Scott sighed happily.

"Dad, you know that I always tell you that I'm too old for stuff?" he asked, putting an arm around his younger brother and giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah?" Jeff prompted, rubbing Scott's back.

"Well, I promise that I'll _never_ get too old for your hugs, okay?" Scott smiled. Jeff chuckled, giving each son a tight squeeze before letting them go and standing up.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, you know." he said. "When you're seventy years old and I'm on my deathbed, I'll be sure to give you a hug. Deal?"

Scott stood to his feet, pulling Virgil up with him. "Deal." he agreed. Virgil moved over to the diagnostic panels and looked carefully at each reading.

"How is he?" Jeff asked softly, putting a hand on Virgil's shoulder. Virgil turned around and smiled, wiping the last of the tears from his face and sighing happily.

"Blood ox is good, resps are steady, and blood pressure is - getting there." he reported calmly, before bending down to peck his baby brother on the cheek. "See, Sprout, I told you everything was gonna be okay."

Scott looked at his watch, then at Virgil's pale face. "Virge, it's bedtime." he instructed softly. "I certainly won't be getting anymore sleep today, that panic attack you caused me to have earlier will supply me with enough adrenaline to last me until this evening. But _you_, my dear little brother, need sleep."

Virgil was about to protest, when the doors '_swished'_ open and Melissa strode back into the room.

"Thanks for watching him for me, Virge." she smiled. "I really owe you one, I'll have to-" she paused, looking at Scott. Then a grin spread across her face. "Hello, trouble."

Scott blushed and suddenly found the floor exceedingly fascinating. Virgil and Jeff grinned at each other, knowing how embarrassed Scott was about all the difficulty he had caused two members of the nursing staff the last time that he was in hospital, one of them being the kind-hearted Melissa. After checking the diagnostic panels and nodding her approval, she grinned at Scott and went to sit in the far corner of the room in order to fill in the data on the electronic notepad.

Jeff put an arm around Virgil's shoulders. "C'mon, son. Let's get you back to bed."

Virgil looked up at him in surprise. "Dad, it's alright, you don't have to. I know you don't want to leave Alan. I can go by myself."

Jeff smiled, but shook his head. "No, Virge. I'm not doing this because I have to. I'm doing it because I want to. Scotty will watch over Alan for me whilst I'm gone, won't you Scott?"

Scott nodded, handing his father the hotel room-key, before taking a seat in the chair beside the bed and picking up Alan's hand. Jeff dropped his arm from Virgil's shoulders and bent over the bed, stroking Alan's cheek and planting a soft, tender kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be back soon, baby." he whispered. "Be good for your brother."

Jeff stood up and returned to Virgil's side, putting an arm about his shoulders again. Smiling down at him, Jeff lead Virgil out of the room.

Ten minutes later, Virgil found himself in the bathroom of his hotel room, changing back into his pyjamas and washing the remainder of the salty tears from his face. He staggered wearily back into the bedroom and collapsed onto his bed, where his father was patiently waiting for him. Jeff smiled at him lovingly, holding out a glass of water and two tablets.

"For the headache." he elaborated. Virgil blinked in surprise, only just noticing that he did, in fact, have a headache building up behind his eyes. But how had his father known? Jeff just grinned at him and waited until Virgil had swallowed the pills, before taking back the glass and setting it down on the bedside table. Virgil scooted down under the duvet, smiling slightly when Jeff proceeded to tuck him in.

"You do remember that I'm sixteen, don't you dad?" he chuckled softly, although he was finding the act of being tucked into bed like a small child very comforting. Jeff smiled at him and leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Sweet dreams, little one." he whispered. Virgil closed his eyes and sighed in content, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling growing in his chest.

"Love you, dad." he mumbled wearily, feeling the pull of sleep growing stronger. Jeff's fingers ran through his hair gently.

"I love you too, Virgil." he murmured softly. "Goodnight."

"'Night."

Virgil smiled happily as his father continued to stroke his hair soothingly. Even though the stress from the day's events had worn him out, he was safe in the knowledge that, no matter what happened, his family would always love him.

* * *

**_In the next chapter, Alan awakens from his unconscious state. How will his family react to seeing their baby 'alive' once more? And how will the other boys react when they discover that Virgil had blamed himself for Alan's condition? What happens when Nathaniel Rivers tries once more to interfere with the Tracy family? And how will Alan react when the anaesthetic begins to make him cranky? Find out tomorrow!_**

**_Okay, that was an emotional chapter, huh? The ending was something I've been picturing in my head for a long time. No matter how old they get, all boys experience those times when they need their daddy's assurance that they are still loved. 'sigh' I love family stuff!_**

**_PLEASE REVIEW with all your feedback and comments, I'd love to hear from you! Thank you!_**


	13. Chapter 13: Scott Loses It Again

**_Okay, next chapter has arrived! Woo-hoo! Thanks you everybody for your great reviews, they made my day (they were even better than the shoes!). I was out at a friend's house all morning, so I'm sorry this is posted so late. I hope it's just as satisfying to read as it is to write!_**

**_This chapter is for all you faithful fanfictioners who continue to review each and every chapter so diligently! I love ya!_**

* * *

Jeff sat in the chair at the bedside, gazing lovingly into the face of his youngest son. Alan was yet to awaken from his unconscious state, and Jeff couldn't help but wish that there was something he could to wake him up. He knew that Alan needed the rest. He knew that Alan's body had to recover from the effects of the emergency surgery. _But darn it, I want to see that my baby is alright. I want to see him smiling and laughing again!_

Jeff sighed and looked around at the quiet room. He wondered vaguely when Scott would return. His eldest had gone to the coffee shop across the road to buy himself and Jeff some _real_ coffee, after Melissa had assured them that they were allowed to drink it in the ICU room. The young nurse had declined having one herself, though, as she was trying to cut down on the amount she drank at work.

Rubbing his face with his free hand, he began to work out how he was going to explain things to Scott. After returning from the hotel, Jeff had sent Scott off almost immediately to fetch them both a coffee so that they could stay awake long enough to talk. It had really just been an excuse to buy himself the time to think things through. How would Scott take to the news that Virgil had blamed himself? Jeff knew that Scott was very protective of his younger brothers, especially since the death of their mother.

"I come bearing gifts!"

Jeff smiled up at Scott as he entered the room, a cup of coffee in each hand. Accepting the 'gift' from his son, he held it up to his face and inhaled deeply through his nostrils. _Ah, coffee. I love you._

Scott sat down in the chair on the other side of the bed, one hand gently stroking Alan's arm as he took a long drink from his cup. Sighing in pleasure, he turned his attention back to his father.

"So?" he asked softly. Jeff exhaled slowly, before taking a gulp of his coffee and sighing in resignation. _It's now or never, Tracy. _

"You want to know what was upsetting Virgil?" he inquired softly. Scott nodded firmly, and Jeff smiled. "I take it your little 'heart-to-heart' didn't go so well, then?" he asked.

Scott frowned and shook his head. "He seemed so exhausted when we got back to the hotel, so we made a deal to have the conversation when we woke up." he explained. "Except, when I woke up a few hours later, Virgil was missing. Man, I was so worried he'd gone and done something stupid."

"Like what?" Jeff asked softly. Scott shrugged, and Jeff had to smile. "Does Virgil really strike you as somebody who would do _anything _stupid?"

Scott chuckled. "I guess not. But still, I didn't know what was up with him earlier. I've never seen him so upset, at least not since - not since - "

"Not since your mom died?" Jeff offered gently, feeling a small pang of pain in his chest. He quickly looked down at his youngest son, studying his gentle features, and the pain passed by as quickly as it had come. _I may have lost you, but you made damn sure that I wouldn't lose somebody else. And you were with Alan and the boys last night, weren't you? You kept him safe until they reached the hospital._

Scott nodded his head gravely, and Jeff smiled at him. "I know, son. I haven't seen him that distressed in a long while. But he had a good reason to be so upset, even if it was a ridiculous notion."

"What was it?" Scott asked worriedly. "Was it something I said? I didn't upset him, did I?"

"No Scott, it wasn't anything you said or did." Jeff assured him. "Virgil - Virgil blamed himself for Alan's burst appendix."

Scott looked momentarily flabbergasted, before an expression of of complete confusion passed over his face. "What?!" he exclaimed. "How on earth did he work that one out? He was the one who diagnosed Alan's illness! Without him, we wouldn't have gotten Alan to a hospital in time to save him!"

"I know, Scotty." replied Jeff calmly. "But that's not how Virgil saw it. In his eyes, he failed to notice Alan's symptoms early enough to stop the appendix from bursting. He thought that, if Alan had died last night, it would have been his fault."

"But - but -" Scott stuttered, his frown increasing as he tried to comprehend his younger brother's reasoning. He gulped down the last of his coffee in an attempt to get some inspiration.

"And," Jeff added softly, knowing that he was treading on an explosive area. "He thought that you would all hate him for landing Alan in hospital for so long."

There was a slight pause, in which Scott looked as though somebody had just punched him in the stomach. Then his eyes filled with guilt and anger, and he dropped his head into his hand.

"Oh man, I should have known." he muttered sadly. "I knew that there was more to this than he was letting on. But - but _hate_ him?! How could he even _think_ that I'd hate him? Ever?!"

A smile broke out across Jeff's face and he chuckled, ignoring the glare that Scott sent his way.

"You think this is funny?" his son asked incredulously. "Virgil thinks I hate him, and you find that amusing?!"

Jeff shook his head, regaining his composure. "No, Scotty. It's just, I predicted _exactly_ what you were going to do when you found out the truth. Virgil thought you'd sit on him first and tell him and that he was an idiot, but you proved him wrong."

"I may not have done it first, but I'm sure as hell gonna do it later." Scott growled. "How could he be so stupid? How could _I_ be so stupid? I should have realised that he would blame himself like this!"

"Scotty, it's alright." Jeff soothed. "Virgil's seen sense now. He's not gonna blame himself any more."

"Good." Scott grumbled. "Because if he ever suggests that I hate him, _ever_ again, I'll make sure he's grounded for the rest of his life."

Jeff chuckled humorously at his son's murderous expression, shaking his head. He froze, holding his breath, when Alan suddenly stirred beneath the blankets. Scott put his empty coffee cup on the floor and took Alan's hand in both of his. Jeff turned towards the nurse at the back of the room.

"Melissa, I think he's waking up!" he exclaimed. She immediately stood to her feet and hurried to the bedside, glancing at the monitors. With a smile, she nodded her head.

"Yes, that appears to be true, Mr. Tracy." she said happily. "It looks as though I have another Tracy under my care who does not want to remain asleep for an extended period of time. I'll go and fetch the doctor."

She strode quickly from the room, and Jeff bent his head close to Alan's, stroking the boy's cheek. "Alan?" he called. "Alan, can you hear me?"

Alan stirred again, grunting softly and opening his mouth slightly. Very slowly, his eyelids cracked open and he blinked groggily, the blue orbs gleaming up into Jeff's face. Jeff smiled lovingly at his son.

"Hey, baby." he whispered, his heart soaring happily. "I'm so glad you're awake."

Alan frowned wearily, his eyebrows knotting together in confusion. "Dad?" he croaked. Jeff nodded and put Alan's hand to his own cheek.

"That's right, baby, I'm here." he said softly. He glanced away momentarily as the doors opened and Melissa re-entered the room with a young man, who barely seemed to be older than Scott. In fact, had it not been for the blue scrubs and white coat, Jeff would not have thought that he _was_ a doctor.

"I'm Dr. Johnathan Mathews, Mr. Tracy." he said, coming to the bedside and smiling kindly at Jeff. "But please, call me Johnny. I'm supervising your son's care this morning. Dr. Palmar went off-duty a few hours ago, but he will be back again at about midday."

Dr. Mathews leaned over towards Alan and smiled. "Hi, Alan. I'm Johnny. Do you know where you are?"

Alan frowned in sleepy confusion for a moment, glancing up at the doctor, then at the monitors above his head. The ten-year-old just about managed to put two and two together. "Hospital." he slurred dazedly.

Johnny smiled. "That's right, Alan. You're in the hospital. Do you remember arriving here?"

Alan blinked and frowned, before shaking his head wearily and looking up at his father. "Why?" he asked.

"You had appendicitis, Alan." Jeff explained gently. "You had to have an operation to remove the appendix before it could do any more damage."

Alan blinked again, trying to process this information. Apparently, he wasn't successful. "Wha'?" he slurred.

"Never mind, Alan." Johnny soothed. "We'll explain when you're a little bit more awake. Why don't you go back to sleep for a little while, hmm? You'll feel better when you wake up."

"Dad." Alan whispered, his eyes drifting closed again. Jeff leaned forward and squeezed the boy's hand gently.

"Yes, son?" he asked softly, smoothing down the blond hair with his free hand.

"Love you." the ten-year-old croaked, then his eyes closed completely and he fell back to sleep. Jeff smiled lovingly at his youngest son, leaning towards him and planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I love you too, baby." he said gently, smiling up at Scott. His eldest wore an expression of tender adoration, his hand gently caressing Alan's arm.

"Mr. Tracy?" the doctor said, looking up from the notepad at the end of the bed. Jeff turned towards him, the smile still lingering on his lips.

"Yes?" he asked, running a hand through his son's blond locks.

"Alan's vitals have improved remarkably over the last few hours." Johnny reported. "His blood pressure is slowly retuning to a normal level, and his pulse and resps are good. Given how quickly he has returned to consciousness, I'd say that he's fighting off the anaesthetic quite well. You have a very determined son, Mr. Tracy."

Jeff chuckled and looked down at the angelic face of his snoozing baby boy, running his hand down the warm cheek affectionately.

"You have no idea."

* * *

Virgil awoke when his stomach grumbled mightily. He was hungry. _Really_ hungry. Rolling over onto his side, he fumbled for the watch that he knew was on the bedside table. Glancing at the numbers through blurry eyes, he blinked a few times so that he could focus on the numbers. _11:24? Oh crap. Why did they let me sleep in this late? I need to see Alan!_

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood quickly to his feet with the intention of heading for the bathroom. However, his journey was cut short when the bedclothes became tangled around his legs, and he toppled onto the floor.

"Very elegant, Virge."

Virgil glared up at the laughing figure above him, accepting the helping hand and hauling himself to his feet. Scott's face grinned down at him, ruffling his already unruly mop of brown hair.

"You hurt yourself?" he asked, his eyes scanning over Virgil's body. Virgil shook his head hurriedly and bent down to grab his clothes and wash-bag off the floor. Pushing passed his older brother, the embarrassed teenager headed for the bathroom. Grabbing his toothbrush, he looked at himself in the mirror momentarily. The large bags below his eyes were no longer as visible as they had been the last time that he was here, and his skin had lost its pale tinge. Looking up, Virgil saw Scott's reflection in the corner of the mirror. His older brother was grinning like an idiot, leaning against the door of the bathroom with his arms crossed casually over his chest.

"What was that little stunt you were trying to pull in their, Virge?" he asked, his eyes sparkling. "Whatever it was, I think the duvet got the better of you."

Virgil rolled his eyes as Scott chuckled, but refrained from saying anything as his mouth was full of toothpaste. Scott shook his head, still grinning, and disappeared off into the bedroom once more. After brushing his teeth, Virgil hurried to get dressed. _I need to get to the hospital. I want to be there for Alan when he wakes up. I owe him that much. Man, I hope he's okay._

Pulling on his shoes quickly, he jogged back into the bedroom and dropped his pyjamas into his bag. Turning around swiftly, he headed towards the door. However, before he had gotten halfway there, Scott leaped out from somewhere on his right and tackled him onto the other bed.

"And where are you going in such a hurry?" his older brother asked. Virgil sighed and began counting to ten in his head.

"I'm going to go and see Alan." he said. "Is that a crime?"

Scott nodded. "Yep. You're not going anywhere until you've eaten breakfast."

Virgil groaned. "Scotty-" he began, the hint of a whine in his voice. Scott shook his head.

"Nope, my word is law." he stated lightly. "You don't leave this room until you've finished everything on that tray." He pointed to said object, which lay on a table in the corner of the room.

Virgil sighed. "Fine, I'll eat." he said, knowing that he'd probably appreciate some food. It had been a long while since he'd last eaten, at least it seemed that way to a growing sixteen-year-old boy.

Scott released his hold on Virgil's shoulders so that the teenager could get up. Virgil went to sit in the chair beside the table on the other side of the room. He picked up a piece of toast and bit into it hungrily, trying to ignore Scott's piercing gaze. He ate his plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in silence, fidgeting nervously. Scott obviously wanted to say something, and Virgil wished that he would just speak up and break the awkward silence of the room. After a few minutes, his older brother finally opened his mouth.

"Why, Virge?" he asked softly.

"Why what?" Virgil inquired curiously, sipping at his orange juice.

"Why did you think I would hate you?" Scott elaborated quietly, his eyes filled with pain and sadness. "Was it something I said that gave you that impression? Virge, if I'm doing something to make you feel that way, please tell me."

Virgil swallowed his mouthful of toast and sighed. _I guess dad told him, then. Man, I was hoping he wouldn't have to find out. How can I explain this to him? I know I was an idiot earlier, I can see that now. And Scott would never hate me. _

"Scotty, I wasn't thinking straight." Virgil said softly. "I was worried and stressed and I blamed myself for what had happened to Alan. And I never meant my idiocy to hurt you. I'm sorry."

Scott stood up and came to stand beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "It's okay, Virge." he smiled, giving him a brief hug. "I'm not upset about it anymore. However," he grinned evilly. "There's something I need to do to you to ensure that this will never happen again."

Virgil dropped his toast and stood up, backing away hastily. He knew what the evil glint in Scott's eye meant for him.

"Now Scooter, don't do anything rash." Virgil pleaded, holding his hands up in front of him. "I mean, you wouldn't want to land me in hospital, would you? They've already got enough on their plates with Alan."

Scott leaped forward and grabbed him around the waist, dragging him over to his bed and throwing him onto it. Jumping on top of him, he began to tickle Virgil mercilessly.

"Scott! Scott, don't! Stop! No...please!" Virgil begged, laughing hysterically as his older brother's fingers ran over his ticklish ribs. "I'm sorry! Alright, I'm sorry! I won't do it again, I promise! NO!"

"You're right, you won't do it again!" Scott chuckled slyly. "Because next time you do, I won't be so lenient. Next time, I'll get John to join in. And you know how good he is at punishing you like this."

"Scott, please!" Virgil gasped, going red in the face as tears of laughter streamed from his eyes. "Scott, you're gonna make me puke! STOP, DARN IT!"

Scott laughed and rolled off the bed, getting to his feet and regarding his giggling younger brother with a satisfied grin. Virgil managed to push himself into a sitting positiion, still gasping for breath. He grinned up at Scott, trying and failing to shoot him a mock-glare.

"You..are even worse...than Gordon." he panted, wiping his eyes and trying to get his breathing back under control. Scott laughed and crouched down in front of him, ruffling Vigil's hair gently.

"You won't ever think _that_ about me or any of the other guys again, right?" he asked. "Promise me you won't."

Virgil smiled and swatted Scott's hand away playfully. "I promise."

Scott grinned. "Good. Now, finish your breakfast and we'll go and join the other guys at the hospital. Oh, and for your own safety, let's just keep this between you, me and dad, huh? If Gordon ever found out that you thought he hated you, he'd make you the victim of his pranks for the rest of your life."

Virgil quickly finished his breakfast, his heart feeling light and happy. He was still worried about Alan, worried about how the boy would react to being stuck in a hospital bed for a week, but his conscience was no longer guilty. His dad was right, it hadn't been his fault. And now he knew just how much he had been blessed with such a terrific family.

They exited the hotel room together and made their way to the reception desk. Virgil was keen to get going to the hospital, but Scott insisted that they needed to get a spare room-key for their father.

"You go ahead, and I'll catch up in a sec." Scott told him, handing his key to the receptionist so that she could find the match on the computer. Virgil nodded and strolled out of the door, humming merrily to himself. He inhaled deeply as he stepped out into the fresh air, blinking up at the gorgeous blue sky above him. He began to stroll slowly down the street towards the hospital, smiling at a group of children as they passed him by. _I haven't felt this good in a long while. My family are the best people on the planet. Nothing is gonna dampen my spirits today._

"Virgil Tracy!"

_Oh crap._

Virgil turned around slowly towards the source of the cry, trying to keep his face neutral. Low and behold, Nathaniel Rivers was jogging up the road towards him, his cameraman stumbling along a few metres behind him. Virgil suppressed a groan and turned back around, quickening his pace and making a beeline for the hospital. Sadly, Rivers' feet appeared to move just as quickly as his mouth, and it wasn't long before he had caught up to Virgil. Sticking the microphone in his face, Nathaniel tried to step in front of him in order to bring them to a halt. Virgil, however, had other ideas, and managed to knock the microphone aside so that he could push past the reporter.

"I'd go now, if I were you." Virgil called over his shoulder. "Before my older brother catches up with me."

With that, he ducked into a small crowd of people outside of a cafeteria, pausing momentarily so that he could get his bearings. The hospital was just on the other side of the road. Glancing left and right to make sure that there was no traffic coming, he ran across the road to the hospital as fast as his legs could carry him. When he could not spot the reporter or his cameraman anywhere in sight, Virgil leaned against the wall outside of the hospital entrance and tried to catch his breath. Man, he _hated_ reporters.

After a few moments, Scott jogged up to where he stood, wearing a rather amused expression.

"Any reason why you decided to do that rather spontaneous sprint back there?" he asked lightly. Virgil straightened up and smiled.

"Just trying to avoid the press." he said, choosing not to specify who exactly had been following him. However, Scott's eyes narrowed at the mention of the 'p' word.

"Was somebody trying to interview you again?" he demanded. Virgil ignored the question and strode through the hospital entrance, Scott hot in his heels.

"Leave it, Scotty, I handled it." he insisted. Scott grabbed Virgil gently by the arm and halted him before they could reach the reception desk.

"Virgil, was it Rivers?" he asked firmly. Virgil didn't need to answer. His silence answered for itself. He saw Scott's eyes smoulder fiercely. "When I get my hands on that little-"

"Mr. Tracy!"

Virgil flinched at the call. _Oh no. Doesn't he know when to stop? Can't he read the warning signs?_

"Mr. Tracy, a moment if you please!" Rivers yelled, walking swiftly towards them, his face set in a huge grin. Scott growled again, and Virgil hurriedly tried to pull him away. But it was too late. Scott was angry, and God help anybody who tried to stop him when he was in one of his tempers.

"Ah, Mr. Tracy, good to see you." Rivers gave what he obviously thought was a 'winning' smile, smoothing his dark hair down a little and turning towards the camera. "I am about to have a chat with Scott Tracy, eldest out of five sons, and brother to the seriously ill Alan Tracy. Scott, we are yet to see any sign of your father in the hospital. Why is this? Does he consider his work to be more important than his family?"

Scott's hands curled into fists and his eyes flashed menacingly. "I warned you never to come near my family again." he growled. "However, because I consider myself to be a lenient kinda guy, I'm gonna give you one last chance to turn around and walk away."

"Now c'mon, pal." Rivers smiled. "I think you and I started off on the wrong foot earlier this morning. Why can't we just have a little chat, you know, between friends?"

"Look, Rivers, my brother doesn't make idle threats." Virgil stated, putting a restraining hand on Scott's upper-arm. "Don't you reporter guys ever eat? Or sleep? Why don't you just get back to your own lives and leave us in peace?"

Melissa, who had been passing by on her way to reception, noticed the two Tracy boys being harassed by the reporter. Stepping up in front of Rivers, she glared at him steadily.

"Mr. Rivers, I thought you were told not to return to the hospital unless you had need of medical attention." she said sternly. "Now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Nathaniel's charming smile vanished, and was replaced by a frown. "Look, girly, I've got a job to do." he said, stiffly. Then, leaning forward so that his mouth was next to her ear, he pulled her close to his body."Now why don't you go back to healing your patients with those pretty little thighs of yours?" he purred. "Or perhaps you could meet me in my hotel room later this evening and show me a little more of your 'medicine'?"

Melissa squealed slightly when he swatted her rear end, jumping backwards and staring in shock at Nathaniel. Scott exploded.

Pushing Melissa gently to the side, he drew back his fist and socked the obnoxious reporter in the side of the jaw. Caught off-guard, Nathaniel lost his balance and fell to the floor, Scott leaping after him. However, Rivers appeared to have faster reactions than Virgil had predicted, blocking Scott's next blow and landing one of his own.

Scott was livid. He had been angry enough with Nathaniel over what he had done to his family, but seeing the reporter touching the kind-hearted Melissa, who had taken such good care of Scott only a few months ago, had finally made him snap. As Rivers landed a punch on Scott's jaw, the junior Air-force pilot raised his fist to strike again, but suddenly found a strong pair of arms encircling his chest and pulling him away.

"That's enough!"

Thomas Palmar hauled Scott to his feet and gently pushed the younger man behind him, keeping a restraining hand on the Scott's wrist. He planted himself firmly in front of the Tracy boys and glared down at Rivers. "Somebody call the police and get this idiot outta here." he said sternly, as two security officers grabbed the reporter by the arms and pulled him upright.

"Hey, _he _was the one who attacked me!" Rivers shouted fiercely, trying wrestle off the guards to get at Scott. Thomas frowned.

"Oh really?" he asked. "From what I saw, he was merely trying to protect the poor girl that you were harassing. And besides, you breached the rules the minute you stepped trough those doors. We threw you out once and warned you not to return, but you didn't listen! You _way _overstepped the boundaries with this one, buster! What you were doing to the Tracy family will count as harassment too, you know."

"All I wanted to do was talk to them! Is that a crime?!" Nathaniel protested. "And besides, Scott Tracy attacked me on the landing strip earlier this morning! He made violent threats against me and my colleague here. I want him done for assault!"

"Earlier this morning?" Thomas asked, putting a supportive arm around Scott's shoulders. "Would that, by any chance, be _after_ we warned you to leave the hospital grounds? If you had already disobeyed the hospital policy, we can't hold Mr. Tracy accountable for any threats he may or may not have made against you."

"But - but-" Nathaniel stuttered angrily. Thomas held up a hand and glared at him.

"You know what, I don't give a damn what you think." He turned to the police officers who had just arrived through the hospital entrance. "Have that man arrested on charges of assault and unprovoked harassment of hospital staff."

Virgil watched with a stunned expression as Rivers and his cameraman were lead away. _Well, that's a side to Tom I haven't seen before. Wow, he's good. I bet he's gonna be mad at Scott, though._

Thomas turned around and smiled at Virgil encouragingly, before walking over to Melissa. The young nurse was shaking slightly, and there were tears in her eyes.

"Melissa, honey? You okay?" he asked gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Did he hurt you?"

Melissa shook her head. "No, Tom. I'm fine. He just - surprised me, that's all."

Thomas put an arm around her shoulders, looking across to the reception desk. "Samantha, could you take Melissa to the staff room and get her a cup of coffee?" he asked. A motherly-looking nurse stood to her feet and bustled over.

"Of course, Dr. Palmar." she said, before turning to Melissa and taking her arm gently. "C'mon, honey. Let's get you a nice hot drink, hmm?"

As Samantha lead the younger nurse away down the corridor, Thomas turned back towards the two Tracy boys.

"Scott, are you alright?" he inquired. Scott nodded his head, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor and his face impassive. Taking him by the arm, Thomas lead them away out of the busy emergency department and into a lift. Once the doors had closed, he turned back to Scott and lifted his head up using a finger beneath the younger man's chin.

"Ooh, that one's gonna be sore in the morning." he said softly, his fingers running over the swelling on Scott's jaw. Scott winced slightly as the doctor pressed the lump gently, but he did not try to move away.

"Good news is, he didn't break anything." Thomas smiled, looking into Scott's eyes. "And I don't think he hit you hard enough to give you a concussion. His right hook was kinda sissy."

Virgil snorted in amusement, and even Scott managed a weak smile. "Can't say the same about _your _right hook, though." Thomas continued. "Looks like you've taken after you father. I know from experience that a sock in the jaw from a Tracy is best avoided."

Virgil raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Dad _hit_ you?" he asked incredulously. Thomas shrugged, pulling both Tracy boys by the arm and leading them out of the lift and down the ICU corridor.

"Well, he was aiming for the other guy." he said lightly. "I got in the way."

Scott chuckled at that. "I'm gonna have to ask him about that one." he smiled. The doctor turned to him and winked, before pressing his thumb onto the finger recognition panel and releasing the doors to Alan's room.

Thomas stepped through the doors, but Virgil and Scott remained outside. They exchanged nervous glances.

"Dad's not gonna be happy about this, is he?" asked Scott, fingering his tender jaw gently. Virgil shook his head gravely.

"Nope, I very much doubt it."

"Well, Tom wasn't angry about it." Scott countered quietly. "He practically congratulated me on decking Rivers."

"Yeah, but Tom was the guy who helped you and Gordon to pull a prank on dad last summer." Virgil replied. Scott's face fell.

"True. He's still a kid at heart." he sighed. "Oh well, you ready to go in?"

"Are you?" Virgil asked. Scott shook his head, and Virgil grinned.

"Oh c'mon, Scott." he chided. "No matter how frightening dad can become when he's mad, he'll never be as scary as mice, right?"

Scott shuddered. "Right. That's - um - encouraging?"

"That's the spirit, bro!" Virgil chuckled, clapping Scott on the back. "Now go on, after you."

Virgil tried not to grin at the nervous expression on Scott's face. Sighing, he followed his older brother into the room.

_It's been good knowing you, Scooter. _

* * *

**What will Jeff's reaction be to Scott's little punch-up? What will John and Gordon have to say about this? When Alan begins to recover from the anaesthetic, who will he snap at first? And what peace offering will Virgil bring to calm his baby brother down after a cranky outburst? Find out tomorrow in the second-to-last chapter!**

**Okay, for starters, I changed the layout of the story a little. Alan being cranky is in the next chapter, as it happens to coincide with the events that took place in this chapter. I hope you weren't too disappointed. I thought that one sock in the jaw wasn't enough, so I had him arrested. I hope you didn't mind. **

**Right, I'll see you with the next chapter tomorrow! PLEASE REVIEW! With all your comments so that I know what you thought of Scott's little scrap with Rivers! Luv ya!**


	14. Chapter 14: Mood Swings

**_Okay, second-to-last chapter begins here! ('sniff sniff')_**

**_Thanks for your great reviews, and I'm glad that you didn't mind me shoving Rivers in jail. He really annoyed me. (Except I created him, so technically I was annoying myself...I'm confused.)_**

**_Right, hope you like the chapter! Hope Katzen is feeling better and Lissysue85 managed to get some sleep! Best wishes to you guys!_**

* * *

"Virgil, you're awake!"

Virgil smiled at Gordon, who was sitting in a chair next to John at Alan's beside.

"Is it that obvious?" he chuckled softly. Gordon and John both smiled, clearly relieved that Virgil had recovered from the strange mood he had been in the last time they had seen him.

"Hey, son, you're looking better." Jeff remarked softly, looking up from where he had been stroking Alan's hair. Virgil nodded, perching on the end of Alan's bed and running his hand over the boy's leg gently.

"He's been awake quite a few times since you were last here." Jeff continued, gazing back down lovingly at his youngest son's face. "He was little disorientated, but Dr. Mathews said that he would become more coherent as time passed. He had no problems recognising John and Gordon when he last woke up, just over an hour ago."

"Well, who _wouldn't_ be able to recognise John?" asked Gordon, grinning cheekily. "With a face _that_ hideous, it's hard to mistake him for somebody else!"

Virgil laughed humorously as John gaveGordon a massive noogie, shaking his head at his brothers' immature behavior. Suddenly, Alan stirred and moaned on the bed beside him, shifting beneath the blankets.

"I think he's coming around again." Thomas said quietly, leaning over the bed and feeling Alan's forehead gently. Virgil's face lit up, and he shuffled a little closer to his baby brother. Scott, who had been hiding away in the corner of the room, immediately came up to the bedside and leaned over John and Gordon's shoulders.

"Alan?" Thomas called softly. "Alan, can you open your eyes for me?"

The blond boy frowned slightly, his eyelids slowly creeping open and his sleepy blue orbs gazing up at Thomas. The doctor smiled warmly. "Hi, kiddo." he said gently. "Do you know where you are?"

Alan blinked a couple of times. "In the hospital." he rasped quietly. Thomas nodded, his smile brightening.

"Good boy." he congratulated. "Do you know why you're here?"

Alan frowned again, clearly trying to remember what he had been told the last time he had woken up. "Appendix burst." he replied hesitantly, seeming a little unsure of his answer. Thomas grinned.

"Gold star, Al! Now, here's the third and final question. You ready?" When Alan nodded, Thomas bent down a little more and lowered his voice. "Who's the better astronaut, me or your dad?"

Alan giggled slightly, blinking tiredly up at Thomas. "Dad's a better astronaut, 'cause he was the one who flew the rockets. You're a doctor." he replied slowly.

Thomas rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. "Darn! I was hoping I could catch you out with that one!" he joked. Jeff brushed his fingers over Alan's cheek and the boy turned to look at him.

"Alan, I'm raising your allowance." he smiled lovingly, chuckling softly. Virgil laughed again, and Alan's head snapped round to look at him. His small face broke into a sleepy grin.

"Virge! You weren't here before!" he exclaimed softly. Virgil leaned in closer, ruffling Alan's hair.

"Nope, dad sent me to bed." he replied. Alan frowned.

"But Gordon, John and Scotty were here." he said, trying to work out the reason behind only one brother not being present. "What did you do, did you get into trouble?"

Everybody chuckled fondly at Alan's suspicions. The ten-year-old was referring to Jeff's use of 'early betimes' whenever Alan had misbehaved. Apparently, the boy was under the impression that his father still punished his older brothers in a similar fashion.

"Alan?" Thomas smiled, picking up an aural thermometer from the bedside table. "I'm just gonna take your temperature, okay? Hold still for me."

He leaned down and slipped the tip of the thermometer into the Alan's ear, taking it out again at the high-pitched '_beep'_. Glancing at the reading, the doctor nodded his approval.

"102.4 degrees." he reported. "That's still pretty high, but it's a lot lower than it was during the surgery. He's making good progress."

"Dad?" Alan murmured, his eyes beginning to droop.

"Yes, son?" Jeff prompted, smoothing the blond hair back from Alan's warm forehead.

"I'm gonna have a little sleep now, 'kay?" the boy replied, letting out a weary sigh.

"Okay, Alan." Jeff smiled. "We'll be right here when you wake up."

"'kay." Alan slurred, his eyes drifting closed. After a few minutes, his breathing had evened out and his face relaxed as he fell into a peaceful slumber.

Thomas looked up to where Scott was leaning over the bed beside him, and frowned slightly at the bump that was rapidly swelling on his jaw. Turning to the nurse at the end of the bed, he smiled at her.

"Jenny, could you please fetch an ice-pack for Scott?" he asked softly.

"Ice-pack?" Jeff repeated worriedly, glancing over at his eldest son. Noticing the bruise on Scott's jaw, he released Alan's hand and stood up, rounding the bed swiftly and gently pulling Scott's head up towards him.

"Scotty, where did you get this?" he asked in concern, fingering the bump carefully. Scott winced when his father pressed a little too hard, and Jeff's eyes flashed worriedly. "Did somebody hit you?" he demanded softly, as Gordon and John both stood up to inspect the battle wound. Thomas cleared his throat, and Jeff turned towards him.

"Scott was hit by a press reporter whilst trying to defend one of the nurses." he explained. Jeff's eyes narrowed.

"Which press reporter?" he asked. "And what were they doing to the nurse?"

"It was Nathaniel Rivers, dad." Virgil said softly. Gordon and John both growled, and Jeff's frown deepened.

"Wasn't he the guy who was causing you all that trouble earlier this morning?" Jeff asked. All the boys nodded gravely, their eyes smouldering. Virgil quickly explained what had taken place since leaving the hotel with Scott, being sure to fully describe what Rivers had said and done. When he told his family about what the reporter had said to poor Melissa, Jeff's face hardened in anger. Turning to Thomas with a concerned expression, he curled his hands into fists and tried to keep his anger in check.

"Is Melissa alright?" he asked worriedly. Thomas nodded.

"She's a little shaken up, but the creep didn't actually hurt her." he replied.

"Scott hurt him, though." Virgil commented, smiling slightly. "Decked the idiot before he could do anything else to Melissa."

"You did WHAT?" Jeff cried, turning back towards his eldest with a surprised expression. Scott looked a little sheepish as he tried to avoid his father's penetrating gaze.

"Yeah, sorry dad." he mumbled. "I kinda socked him in the jaw when he started harassing Melissa."

Jeff shook his head and sighed. "Scott, you know I don't like violence." he began, but Gordon interrupted him.

"I hope you punched him more than once." he growled angrily. "That slimy, obnoxious, dirty-"

"Yes. Thank you, Gordon." Jeff warned, using his _'that's quite enough' _tone of voice. Gordon closed his mouth, but his eyes were still smouldering in fury.

"It wasn't an unprovoked attack, Jeff." Thomas added. "Had Scott not been there, I would have decked Rivers myself. Some of the things he said were way outta line."

Jeff sighed and looked into Scott's eyes. "I don't blame you for what you did, Scotty." Jeff said softly. "But I don't approve of it, either. I'm not mad at you for decking Rivers. In truth, I probably would have done the same thing myself."

"Yeah, and I would _not_ have intervened if that had been the case." remarked Thomas, clapping Jeff on the shoulder. "I made the mistake of coming between you and the other guy once before, and I'm not keen to do so again."

Jeff chuckled softly, and Scott grinned at him expectantly. "That's a story for another time, Scott." Jeff told him. "I promise, when you and I have a few minutes alone together on the island, I'll tell you all about it. Then you can sensor it and tell it to your brothers."

"That bad, huh?" Scott smiled. The nurse walked back into the room at that moment and handed the ice-pack to Thomas.

"Sit down a minute, Scooter." he instructed gently, pushing Scott into the nearest chair. Putting the ice-pack to the younger man's jaw, he grabbed Scott's hand and held it against the cold object. "Hold it there for ten minutes or so, and with any luck you won't look as though a tennis ball is growing out of your jaw when you take it off."

"Thanks, Tom." Scott replied, smiling slightly. The doctor turned back to the monitors above the bed, glancing at the readings and nodding in approval.

"Alan should be a lot more responsive the next time he wakes up. Although you may not appreciate that as much as you'd think." he commented. Jeff, who had just taken his seat again, let out a groan.

"Oh joy. Post-anaesthetic syndrome, right?" he asked, smiling slightly. Thomas grinned and nodded.

"Yep. I see you remember from when Gordon had his anaesthetic?" he asked, referring to the occasion when Gordon had fractured his leg several years earlier.

"Oh no." John groaned, working out what his father was talking about. "He's not gonna get as cranky as Gordon, is he?"

"Worse." Jeff smiled, shaking his head. "Alan's got Scott's stubborn personality, remember?"

* * *

Gordon grimaced as Alan pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring up at the ceiling in determination.

"Nope, I'm not doing it." he stated firmly.

The copper-haired Tracy sighed deeply. Alan had behaved wonderfully all day, showing no sign of this 'post-anaesthetic syndrome' that Dr. Palmar and his father had referred to. However, it was now seven-fort-five in the evening, and Alan was refusing to go to sleep. Jeff, Scott and John had all gone to eat dinner at the restaurant across the road, as Gordon and Virgil had eaten theirs earlier. Virgil had gone for a stroll in the park next door, leaving Gordon to look after Alan on his own. And now the ten-year-old boy had become slightly cranky, adamantly refusing to close his eyes and get some rest as the doctor had told him to.

"C'mon, Sprout." he persisted, patting the blond hair gently. "Dr. Palmar said you had to get as much rest as possible. He told me that you had to try and go to sleep at seven-thirty. It's gone seven-thirty, kiddo. It's getting late, and you need to get some sleep."

"_You_ go to sleep!" Alan retorted moodily, although the effort of arguing appeared to be robbing him of most of his energy. "I'm not tired!"

"Yes you are." Gordon replied evenly. Alan's eyed flashed defiantly.

"Am not!" he argued. Gordon bit back the childish reply that was about to spring from his lips, refusing to fight with his baby bother. He had to keep reminding himself that it wasn't entirely Alan's fault. The after-effects of the anaesthetic were just making the boy a little cranky.

"Listen, Allie," he said, trying to reason with the grumpy ten-year-old. "Why don't we make a deal? If you lie down and go to sleep, I promise I'll take you to the shallows on the east side of the island when you're better, and we can explore the reef there. There are loads of different species of fish and coral in that area. How does that sound, hmm?"

"Like a dumb idea." Alan grumbled moodily. "I hate fish."

"You don't hate fish." Gordon chuckled. "What about all those clown-fish we spotted a couple of months ago? You liked them so much that dad went and bought you a tank of them for your bedroom, remember?"

"I hate fish." Alan repeated, blinking furiously in an attempt to keep his eyelids from drooping. Gordon leaned forward and patted his little brother on the shoulder, only to have his hand angrily shoved away.

"Go 'way, Gordon." the boy grumbled.

"Alan, you're falling asleep already." Gordon said softly. "C'mon, just close your eyes and your body will do the rest for you."

Alan shook his head again, shifting under the covers slightly and wincing as the movement caused his side to ache a little. Gordon frowned in concern. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly. "Dr. Mathews will be along in about twenty minutes to check on you, but if you're in pain I could press the call button and-"

"Shut up, Gordon!" Alan snapped. "Stop being so annoying! I'm fine. My side is a little bit sore, that's all. Why don't _you_ go and look at fish, and leave me alone?!"

Gordon blinked at the sudden outburst, not quite knowing what to do. "But Allie," he began, deciding that humour was the most sensible route to take in order to calm his younger brother's anger. "The nearest bit of ocean is over four miles away. I can't exactly step outside and go snorkeling, can I?"

Alan's eyes narrowed and he glared up at Gordon. "Are you calling me stupid?" he demanded fiercely.

"Oh - um - no, Allie." Gordon stuttered, realising that he'd only succeeded in making matters worse. "Of course I wasn't, I just meant that there isn't-"

"Stupid fish." Alan muttered darkly.

Gordon closed his eyes and counted to ten, quite impressed with himself over how well he was keeping his temper in check. He opened his eyes again, chuckling slightly at Alan's grumpy expression.

"Now, are you gonna try and get some sleep or not?" he asked lightly. Alan shook his head and returned his stony gaze to the ceiling.

"Nope. I'm not sleepy." he declared firmly, lifting his head up from the bed. "I've already had loads of rest today, and I don't wanna sleep any more! You can sleep if you like, but I'm not! Why don't you go back to your room and sleep if you're so desperate?! I don't care if I'm supposed to get lots of rest, I'm not going to and that's final!"

This mini-rant was clearly very tiring to the young boy, and his head flopped back onto the pillow as he breathed heavily. Gordon regarded him with a raised eyebrow, noting how much the ten-year-old sounded like Scott when he became cranky.

Alan yawned wearily, and Gordon pounced on the opportunity to prove his point. "See? You are tired, Sprout." he insisted gently. "Go to sleep."

"Make me!" Alan retorted defiantly.

Gordon sighed again, looking heavenwards for some inspiration. Deciding that he needed reinforcements, he fished around in his pocket for his cell phone. His father had assured them all that their cell phones would not interfere with the hospital equipment, as Brains had modified each transmitter carefully so that they could be used anywhere and still receive a perfect signal. Dialing Virgil's number, he put the phone to his ear. After a few seconds, his older brother's voice responded.

"Hi, Gordo. What's up?"

Gordon sighed and put his head in his hand. "Help." he moaned.

"What's the matter, bro?" Virgil asked, a hint of worry in his voice. "Is everything alright?"

"Alan's cranky." Gordon replied. "He won't go to sleep. Please help? I need backup, all my battle plans have failed."

He heard Virgil chuckle in amusement. "Well, it had to happen sometime." the older teenager said. "I'm actually surprised that it hasn't happened sooner. Don't worry, I'll be up in a few minutes. And I've got a secret weapon in mind."

"What is it?" Gordon asked curiously.

"You'll just have to wait and see." replied Virgil. "Until then, don't antagonise the Sprout. Don't even mention going to sleep. Try to distract him."

"Fine." Gordon groaned. "But please hurry? If he insults aquatic creatures one more time, I might not be able to contain myself."

Virgil laughed again. "Don't sweat it, Gordo. When you got cranky after your operation when you were his age, you said all sorts of things to Scott."

"Like what?" demanded Gordon. Virgil laughed again, and Gordon's frown deepened. "Virgil, what did I say?"

"Oh, something along the lines of what you were planning to do to Tracy One if Scott didn't stop talking." Virgil replied, still chuckling slightly. "As I recall, it involved copius amounts of yellow paint and a packet of Barbie stickers."

With that, Virgil cut the line. Gordon sat open-mouthed for a second. "I said that?" he asked aloud. Suzie, who had been sitting quietly in the corner as she worked on a pile of reports, looked up at him questioningly.

"Did you say something, honey?" she asked kindly. Gordon closed his mouth and blinked.

"Oh -um - no mam, I was just talking to myself." he mumbled in embarrassment. Suzie nodded and grinned.

"First sign of madness, don't you know?" she joked, before returning her attention to the huge stack of papers in front of her. Gordon gazed back down at his little brother.

"Okay Al, if you're not gonna sleep, what are you gonna do?" he asked. Alan frowned slightly, clearly not having thought of the next stage in his plan.

"Dunno. Just not sleep." he replied quietly. "Can't I get up?"

Gordon smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Allie, you can't even sit up by yourself yet." he said, ruffling his younger brother's hair affectionately. "And besides, it would make your side hurt if you moved around too much."

Alan did not make a comeback this time, apparently seeing the truth behind Gordon's words. He sighed deeply, his eyelids beginning to droop again.

"I'm bored." he murmured. Gordon laughed, patting Alan's arm gently.

"Sorry if I'm not interesting enough for you." he joked. For the next five minutes, Gordon managed to succeed in keeping Alan calm, although the occasional moody retort was thrown his way. However, he refrained from mentioning the idea of 'sleep', as Virgil had instructed him to do. Gordon wasn't sure what Virgil had planned, but he hoped that whatever it was would work quickly. He was getting rather tired himself.

"Virgil!" Alan cried happily, his moody face breaking into a tired smile. Gordon looked up towards the door as his older brother strode into the room, his hands holding something behind his back.

"Hey, Allie!" Virgil smiled, coming up to the bedside opposite Gordon. "And how is my favourite patient?"

Alan sighed and turned to glare at Gordon. "Gordon's being annoying."

Virgil grinned at Gordon, before turning his attention back to his youngest brother. "Well, I've got something that will make you feel better." he smiled. Alan's eyes lit up.

"What?" he asked curiously. "What is it?"

Virgil removed his hands from behind his back, waving the object in front of Alan's smiling face.

"Cocoa! Thanks Virge, you're the best!" the ten-year-old cried, grabbing the teddy bear and hugging it tightly. Gordon stared at his suddenly happy younger brother in surprise.

"But - how?" he asked, looking questioningly up at Virgil. His older brother wore a rather smug expression.

"We left Cocoa on the jet." he explained. "I figured it might help to cheer Alan up a little."

"Man, you're good Virge." Gordon said, shaking his head. "I would never have thought of that. How did you know?"

Virgil laughed. "Because you were the same at his age. Except, as I recall, it was that giant blue dolphin teddy of yours."

Gordon smiled fondly. "Ah, good ol' Flipper. He got me through a lot of hard times." He stopped, shaking his head and frowning. "What am I saying? I sound like a moron."

"Gordo, you are a moron." Virgil smiled. His smile broadened when Gordon pouted moodily. "Now, why don't you go for a walk? It's a warm evening, and that park next door is really nice. You look as though you could do with some fresh air."

Gordon sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Yeah, you're probably right, as usual." he murmured, grudgingly. "Okay then, I'll go. Will you be alright for half and hour or so?"

Virgil smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I think we can manage can't we, Sprout? You go and relax outdoors for a while."

Alan nodded as well, looking at Gordon and smiling. "Yeah, don't blow anything up, Gordo."

Virgil burst out laughing, and even Gordon managed a chuckle. Leaning forward, the copper-haired teenager gave Alan a very gentle noogie. "Why you little..." he growled fondly. Alan giggled, pushing away his hand.

"See you later, Gordy." he said. "Love you."

Gordon blinked in surprise at how quickly his brother's feelings towards him had changed, considering that Alan had been yelling at him not five minutes before. Leaning forward, he kissed Alan's forehead lightly.

"Love you too, Sprout." he smiled. "Goo- um...I'll see you later."

Virgil sighed at Gordon's slip-up and frowned. The copper-haired Tracy had very nearly said 'goodnight', which would have set Alan back to square one again. Gordon shrugged and grinned, standing up and waving goodbye to Suzie before heading out of the door.

"Gordon's acting weird." Alan remarked thoughtfully. Virgil stifled a laugh and tried to look curious.

"What makes you say that, Al?" he asked, pulling up a chair and beginning to stroke Alan's hair softly.

"Dunno." the boy replied, yawning slightly. "He was just acting differently to normal, that's all. Maybe he's sick."

Virgil chuckled, his fingers combing gently through the blond locks. There was something on the older boy's mind, a question that he'd been wanting to ask ever since Alan had first woken up. _But how do I word it? How do I ask my younger brother if he blames me for what happened? I know for a fact that it wasn't my fault, dad made me see sense, but does Alan think of it in that way? I have to know._

"Al?" he asked hesitantly. Alan's blue eyes gazed up at him.

"Yeah?" the younger Tracy asked curiously.

"How much do you remember about - about what happened yesterday?" he asked quietly, his other hand taking hold of Alan's gently.

"You mean at home or in the hospital?" Alan inquired, his brow knitting in concentration.

"Any of it." Virgil supplied. "From the moment you woke up yesterday morning, to when you woke up in bed this morning."

Alan frowned slightly. "Well, I was feeling pretty weird for most of yesterday morning." he said. "At first, I wasn't really feeling sick, it was more like just - just a funny kinda feeling, you know?"

Virgil nodded for him to continue, glad that the anaesthetic hadn't effected his memory too badly. Alan frowned again, cocking his head to the side and exhaling forcefully.

"It's kinda blurry to remember, like it's a dream or something, but I think I started to feel sick right before went to the beach." he stated. "I didn't want to tell anybody 'cause I knew that you and Scottywould worry and take me home. I didn't want to ruin the day for everybody."

Virgil blinked in surprise, giving Alan's hand a gentle squeeze. "Allie, that wouldn't have spoiled our day at all." he said kindly. "We care a lot more about you than we do about a stupid picnic!"

Alan smiled up at him. "Really?"

Virgil ruffled his hair and, leaning down, rubbed their noses together gently. "Of course we do, silly-billy."

"Thanks, Virge." Alan sighed happily. Virgil smiled at him and gave his hand another squeeze.

"What else do you remember?" he asked. Alan frowned again.

"Well, you know when I chocked on all that water in the sea?" he started. When Virgil nodded, he sighed and continued. "Well, that's when my side really started to hurt. It had been a little sore all day, but when I was swimming towards you guys, it suddenly hurt a lot more than before. After that, it wouldn't stop hurting. I thought I had just pulled a muscle or something, but I guess I was wrong, huh? I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I guess it was kinda my fault that it hurt so bad in the evening, wasn't it?"

Virgil brushed the blond hair away from Alan's warm forehead. "We all make mistakes, Sprout." he said softly, understanding the words more than ever now that he was telling them to his baby brother. "It wasn't your fault that this happened. You couldn't have known that things would end up the way they did. Besides, it's all in the past now, so it doesn't matter any more. I'm just glad that it's over."

Alan nodded wearily, his eyes drooping slightly. "Me too."

There was a short silence, in which Alan tried in vain to keep his eyes open. "Virgil?" he asked. "Will Fermat be able to come and visit me?"

"Course he will, Sprout." Virgil smiled. "He and Brains are catching the first available flight tomorrow morning. Dad says they'll be here at about ten-thirty."

Alan sighed. "That's good. I wanna show Fermat my scar. Tom says that it's even bigger than the one Scotty's got on his knee!"

The older boy chuckled softly, watching as Alan's eyelids began to droop again. As he noticed his brother becoming increasingly more tired, Virgil decided to risk being snapped at in order to ask an important question.

"You feeling sleepy, Sprout?" he inquired. To his immense relief, Alan merely nodded slightly, letting out a huge sigh.

"Why don't you close your eyes for a little bit, then?" Virgil pressed. Alan peered up at him sleepily.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked quietly. Virgil smiled kindly, feeling his heart warming inside of him. He gave Alan's hand a gentle caress.

"Of course I will, Sprout." he replied softly, brushing his fingers rhythmically through Alan's hair in a calming motion. "I'm staying right here."

Alan smiled wearily, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. "Virge?"

"Yeah, buddy?" murmured Virgil, leaning in a little closer and resting his hand on the boy's cheek.

"Love you." Alan whispered. Virgil felt his eyes burn as tears threatened to fall, but he quickly blinked them back. Feeling the happiness swell up like a balloon in side of him, he bent his head close to Alan's and planted a gentle kiss on the top of his forehead.

"I love you too, Alan." he replied affectionately, his eyes gazing lovingly at the younger brother that he had almost lost.

Alan's eyes slid shut and he sighed again, beginning to drift off to sleep, with his teddy bear under one arm and Virgil's hand held tightly to his chest in the other. With his free hand, Virgil stroked Alan's hair as he had been doing before, humming quietly. Alan smiled in sleepy contentedness, and Virgil, upon seeing this reaction, began to sing softly. It was a lullaby that their mother had sung to them on occasions when they were sick or hurt, and Virgil knew that Alan probably remembered the tune more than he remembered his mother. Alan had only been four when the avalanche had robbed her of her life. But Virgil had often been found singing lullabies to the little boy after the tragic accident, not only to calm Alan but to calm himself, too.

Virgil was so engrossed with the sweet words of the song, he did not notice Scott and John standing in the doorway, gazing at him lovingly. Nor did he notice Suzie looking up from her papers with tears in her eyes. All that he saw was the innocent face of his baby brother, and all he felt was the immense happiness over being loved so unconditionally by the little boy.

As the song finished, he bent close to Alan once again and ran a hand through his blond hair. "Goodnight, little one." he whispered, now understanding the true love and adoration that his father had always put into these three short words.

As he strightened up, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look up at his older brother. Scott crouched down beside him and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

"Mom would be so proud of you, Virge." he said, his voice constricted by emotion. "And so am I."

A second pair of arms encircled the pair as John joined in the hug, resting his head on top of Virgil's. They stayed in this position for several minutes, each content just to bask in each other's affections. Finally, they broke apart, and John perched on the bed in front of Virgil.

"You are such a moron." murmured the star-loving Tracy, cupping Virgil's cheek. "How could you think that I'd hate you?"

Virgil blushed, glancing up at his eldest brother. "What happened to _'Let's just keep this between you, me and dad_'?" he asked. Scott shrugged apologetically.

"In my defence," he began. "John had already guessed most of it. And he asked me directly, I wasn't going to lie to him, was I?"

Virgil sighed, returning his gaze to look into John's piercing blue eyes. "Don't." he said, pleadingly. John smiled.

"Don't what?" he asked innocently. "What are you suggesting that I'm planning on doing?"

Virgil shot a nervous glance in Scott's direction. "The same thing that Scott did when he found out." he answered hesitantly.

"Oh - that?" John grinned, poking Virgil in the side and eliciting a strangled squeal from the younger teenager. "Well, I think it can wait until later."

Virgil sighed in relief, glad that his ticklish ribs had been spared a second punishment - at least for the time being. He turned back to his older blond brother.

"I'm sorry." he said sincerely. John smiled.

"It's okay, Virge." he replied kindly. "I'm not mad at you. It's just - don't _ever_ be that stupid again, okay?"

Virgil laughed. "Okay, Johnny." He sighed again, looking around the room. "Hey, where's dad?" he asked.

"He was ordered to bed." Scott grinned. "He came back to the hospital with us, but Tom was waiting at the doors when we arrived. He said that if dad didn't go back to the hotel and get some sleep, he'd have him sedated."

Virgil laughed, shaking his head. "What did dad say?"

John snorted in amusement. "He didn't _say_ anything. He just waved goodnight to us and hurried off towards the hotel."

Virgil felt a grin spreading across his face. "You don't think that Tom has followed through with that threat in the past, do you?" he asked. "If dad didn't even try to argue then - well..."

Scott nodded his head seriously. "I have a feeling that there a number of stories that dad has 'forgotten' to tell us about his life on the space station."

John grinned. "Well, we might as well ask himabout it sometime this week." he suggested cunningly. "We should interrogate Tom, too. It's not as though either of them can hang up on us as they would a phone call. I'm sure if we corner them individually, we'll be able to get the truth out of them. I'm particularly interested to hear about dad's right hook."

Virgil laughed along with his brothers, glancing down at Alan to make sure that the boy was still asleep. He smiled to himself in amusement.

_Hmm. Perhaps this week won't be as uneventful as we'd first thought..._

* * *

**_In the next chapter, Alan arrives back on the island after his time in hospital. How will things have changed? Will all the boys be back to their old selves? Will they still be treating Alan as though he is made of glass? And will things have returned to normal on Tracy Island?_**

**Okay, as a treat, the next (and last) chapter will be posted later this evening! - I thought you might prefer this result as opposed to having to wait a whole week for the final chapter, as I'm going away tomorrow!**

**_PLEASE REVIEW!! Coz I love all your comments and concrit! Tell me what you though of my chapter, so that I can improve my style for future stories, if you want them! Thanks!_**


	15. Chapter 15: The Greatest Family

**_Okay, all good things must come to an end. Here is the last chapter of 'Unknown Dangers'. I hope it doesn't disappoint. I've enjoyed writing this story just as much as my first one, and I'm sure that I'll like the third one just as much._**

**_Thank you for the great reviews earlier this morning, and please enjoy the final installment of my story!_**

* * *

Alan Tracy sighed deeply as he looked out of the window at the blue ocean beneath them, the waves shining in the light of the midday sun. They would be approaching the island soon, and Alan couldn't wait. After being trapped in hospital room for nine days with an IV stuck in his arm, he was glad to finally be getting back to his own bedroom.

_Man, I hate IV lines. Okay, maybe I was a bit rude to snap at Virgil like I did the other day, but he was talking 'medical jargon' again, and I was already kinda annoyed because Tom wouldn't let me get up. I did say sorry later, though, and Virgil said that he wasn't really mad at me. I'm glad, because Virge has been great this week. In fact, if it wasn't for him and the other guys keeping me company, I think I might have left the hospital._

"Hey Sprout, you alright?"

Alan glanced up at his older brother, smiling happily. "I'm fine, Johnny." he said. "I can't wait until we get home!"

John chuckled, crouching down and putting his hands on Alan's knees. "Then I bring good news, kiddo." he smiled. "We're coming in to land in a couple of minutes. I need to get you strapped in."

Alan rolled his eyes. "Johnny!" he moaned. "I can do it myself! I'm ten years old, not two!"

"Yeah, you tell him, Allie!" Gordon laughed, giving him a thumbs-up from where he sat on the other side of the jet. "He's an old man, he often forgets that you're already ten."

John glared at the copper-haired Tracy, standing up and coming to crouch down in front of the teenager instead. Alan grinned expectantly. _Gordon's in big trouble._

"Gordon?" the older blond asked lightly. "Would you mind repeating that, please? I don't think I heard you correctly the first time."

If at all possible, Gordon's grin became even wider. "Aww, bless." he cooed, patting John on the arm gently. "Going deaf in your old age, aren't you?"

Virgil, who sat in the chair behind Gordon, snorted in amusement. "You kinda walked into that one, John." he chuckled.

John growled and leaned towards Gordon menacingly. Taking advantage of John's distraction, Alan proceeded to buckle himself in, being careful not to fasten the straps too tightly around his waist. Although his side was no longer _very _painful, it was still a little tender. And, as Tom had told him several times during the past week, too much activity or pressure on his abdomen would bring his fever back again and might over-strain his still-healing internal structure - whatever that meant. In truth, Alan didn't understand half of the things that Virgil and Tom had discussed whilst examining him. All that he knew was that the doctor had taught Virgil how to give Alan a shot of antibiotics, and that this was not an altogether pleasant experience.

"Guys, are you strapped in yet?" called Scott from the front of the plane. John released Gordon from the headlock he'd been holding him in, and sat down in the seat next to Alan. He turned to his younger brother to help him buckle his belt, only to realise that the task had already been completed.

"See?" Alan grinned cheekily. "Just 'cause my appendix burst doesn't mean that I can't use my hands, John!"

John smiled and shook his head, fastening his own safety belt. "Okay, we're all set!" he called. "Take us down!"

"At last!" Scott exclaimed, and Alan could hear his father chuckling in the background. "I was worried that dad was gonna die of old age before you guys were done!"

The chuckling stopped, and there was a dull 'smack' as Jeff slapped Scott upside the head gently. "Respect your elders, little boy." Jeff warned. The younger brothers in the back of the jet tried to hide their snorts behind their hands, but it didn't really work. The jet was filled with the sound of muffled giggles. Alan sighed happily and sat back in his seat, his gaze returning to the ocean below them.

"You're far too similar to Scott, you know." John commented, putting an arm around Alan's shoulders. "Both stubborn, determined and have one heck of a temper." Smiling secretly, the older boy bent his head closer to Alan's and whispered in his ear, "At least you're not fat, unlike _some_ people we might mention."

Alan, who had been momentarily annoyed with his older brother for calling him stubborn, grinned manically.

"Scott!" he yelled in the direction of the pilot's cabin. "John thinks you're fat!"

There was an outraged cry from the front of the plane, and both Virgil and Gordon dissolved into helpless laughter. John glared in mock-anger at his younger brother.

"Hey, I thought you were on my side!" he complained, a hint of a whine in his voice. "We blonds have gotta stick together, you know!"

"In that case," Alan smiled. "I'm dying my hair green."

"Green?!" Gordon exclaimed, pulling a face. "Eew, dreadful colour."

"WHAT?!" Virgil cired angrily. Alan chuckled to himself in amusement as his brothers began to fight over which colour was the best, with the occasional cry of "Blue!" coming from the front of the plane. Sometimes, Alan thought, he was definitely the most sensible out of all of his brothers.

* * *

Alan sighed wearily as he leaned back against his pillows, shifting slightly beneath the duvet. He was exhausted. The surprise 'welcome home' party that Brains and Fermat had organised for him had drained him of most of his energy reserves. But it had definitely been worth it. Brains had cooked all of Alan's favourite dishes, and had even ordered a special cake in the shape of a rocket from a bakery on the mainland. It had been like having his birthday party all over again. With one exception; Alan's appetite was still a lot smaller than it had been before his hospitalisation. Dr. Palmar had assured him that this was only temporary, and that he would be eating normally again by the time that his antibiotics had run their course.

"Hey, Sprout!"

Virgil poked his head into Alan's bedroom, smiling apologetically. "I'm afraid it's that time of day again, kiddo." he said, coming up to the bedside and setting his med-kit down on the floor.

"Again?" Alan moaned. Jeff, who had just entered the room, smiled slightly.

"Sorry, Alan. Doctor's orders." he stated, pulling up a chair and looking at his youngest son affectionately. "Four shots a day for another eleven days."

Alan sighed in resignation, holding out his arm to his father. Jeff smiled and took a gentle hold of the limb, positioning it correctly so that Virgil could administer the antibiotic.

"Remember, Sprout, it's just a small scratch and then it's all done." said Virgil, wiping an area on Alan's upper-arm with a disinfectant wipe.

"That's what you always say!" Alan complained. "But that's not all, is it? 'Cause you're gonna have to give me another shot in the morning before breakfast, then another one before lunch, then another one before- Ow!"

Virgil, who had been taking advantage of Alan's distraction, had inserted the needle into the boys arm quickly. Alan glared at him accusingly.

"You're supposed to count down from three!" he grumbled angrily. "You know I hate it when you take me by surprise like that."

Virgil looked a little apologetic. "Sorry, Alan." he said quietly. "I'll remember that next time. Do you forgive me?"

Alan smiled up at him. "Of course I do, doctor."

Virgil groaned, withdrawing the needle from Alan's arm and pressing a ball of cotton wool to the tiny puncture wound. "Don't you start as well, Allie." he begged. "I've already got Gordon calling me 'Virge the Surge'."

"Surge?" Alan repeated incredulously. "What does that stand for?"

"It stands for surgeon." said Gordon, waltzing into the room merrily. "The full title is 'Virgeon the Surgeon', but Scott won't let me call him that because 'Virgeon' sounds too much like-"

Jeff frowned at him warningly, and Gordon blushed a little. "Sounds too much like - another word." he finished quickly, avoiding his father's disapproving stare. Virgil chuckled in amusement, taking out the thermometer.

"Open up, kiddo." he instructed softly. Alan obediently opened his mouth, allowing the cool tip of the contraption to slide beneath his tongue. At the shrill '_beep'_ his brother took it out again and peered at the reading.

"Hmm. It has gone up a little bit, but that's to be expected after all the excitement you had this evening." Virgil reported, putting the device back into his bag again. Looking back up at Alan, he smiled kindly. "How do you feel?"

Alan shrugged. "Okay, I guess. My side is a little sore, but it's not too bad."

"Do you want some ibuprofen, son?" Jeff asked, leaning forward and rubbing Alan's shoulder. Alan seemed to consider this offer for a moment, before nodding his head in acceptance. Virgil fished around in his bag again, before withdrawing a bottle of think, orange liquid. Shaking it thoroughly, he unscrewed the cap and poured a little of the contents onto a plastic measuring spoon. Alan eyed it warily as Virgil held it in front of his lips.

"Is it supposed to be that colour?" he asked hesitantly. Virgil smiled.

"Yeah, it's orange flavour." he informed him. Alan didn't seem convinced, but opened his mouth and accepted the sticky substance off the spoon. His face formed a disgusted grimace as he swallowed.

"Virge, they lied." he said, his voice rather constricted as he tried to rid his mouth of the flavour of the medicine. "That is definitely _not_ orange."

Gordon laughed, perching on the edge of Alan's desk and swinging his legs casually. "It could be worse, Al." he said. "It could be flavoured like one of Scott's toasties!"

Alan giggled at this, remembering his eldest brother's frequent cooking disasters. Scott had never been the Tracy with the culinary talents. No, John had inherited those genes. When Scott was given a handful of ingredients and an oven, it often ended in a fire.

As Virgil packed away his medical equipment, Jeff leaned forward and gave his son a gentle hug. "Time to go to sleep, Alan." he said.

"But dad, I'm not tired!" Alan lied, sitting up a little straighter to prove his point.

"Son, it's nearly eight o'clock." Jeff stated. "You're still recovering from the appendicitis, and Tom said you needed to get plenty of rest. And besides, you look exhausted. You need sleep."

"Just five more minutes, dad, please?" Alan asked, smiling up at his father hopefully. Jeff sighed in resignation, ruffling Alan's hair and planting a kiss on his forehead.

"Alright, you can stay up for five more minutes and talk to your brothers." he said, pinching Alan's nose teasingly. "But then you lie down and go to sleep, deal?"

Alan shook his father's hand solemnly, before grinning like an idiot. "Thanks, dad!"

Jeff chuckled and ruffled Alan's hair one last time, standing up and picking up the med-kit. "Goodnight, son. I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well."

"'Night, dad." Alan smiled. "Love you."

"I love you too, kiddo." Jeff smiled, heading towards the door. "I'll send John and Scott down to say goodnight, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, dad." Alan said, as Gordon came to sit in the chair beside the bed. As Jeff closed the door, Alan turned towards his older brothers expectantly. "Alright, he's gone. Now tell!"

Virgil frowned in confusion. "Tell you what, Sprout?" he asked. Alan rolled his eyes.

"You promised you'd tell me that big secret you guys were talking about." he insisted. "You said that once we got home you'd tell me! You know, the thing about Tom and dad."

Realisation dawned in Virgil's eyes, and he smiled slyly. "So I did." he said slowly, turning to Gordon. "And I can't very well go back on a promise now, can I?"

Gordon shook his head seriously, the corners of his mouth twitching with a barely suppressed smile. Virgil turned back to Alan and leaned in close, lowering his voice.

"Well, you know how Scott had that bruise on his jaw?" he began.

"The one he got from that reporter hitting him, you mean?" asked Alan in interest. Virgil nodded.

"That's right." he confirmed. "Well, after Tom had pulled Scott away and stopped the fight, he made a comment about how he'd once felt what it was like to be punched by a Tracy."

"You mean Grandpa Tracy punched Tom?" Alan asked, his face looking shocked. "But dad said that grandpa didn't like using violence, and that's why dad always tells me that really long and boring story about grandpa's peace speeches whenever I hit one of you guys."

Gordon looked down, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter, and Virgil had to struggle mightily to keep a straight face. "No, Alan, grandpa wasn't the Tracy who hit Tom. It was dad."

Alan's mouth formed an 'o' shape. "Dad hit Tom?" he finally managed, his eyes as big as saucers.

"It was an accident." Virgil explained. "Another reporter, way back when dad and mom weren't even married yet, tried to have an interview with dad after he'd just gotten back from the space station with Tom. The guy was very - persistent."

"I'll say! He followed dad around for nearly three days!" Gordon stated. "Dad was getting really annoyed, and the reporter just wouldn't leave him alone. He and Tom were in a hotel car-park outside of town, when the reporter started making rude comments about the NASA project they were taking part in."

"So dad hit Tom?" Alan asked, confused. Gordon burst out laughing, and even Virgil could not keep himself from chuckling.

"No, Sprout." Virgil continued. "Dad tried to ignore the reporter and walk away, but the guy kept following him. Then he started making - um _- _rude comments about mom. Dad lost his temper and turned around to punch the guy in the face-"

"Only Tom chose that moment to try and block his path and calm him down." Gordon finished. "So dad accidentally hit Tom instead. He gave him one heck of a bump. Tom even had a picture taken so that they could remember the incident."

Alan shook his head in bemusement. "And dad tells _me _not to hit people." he said.

"And you shouldn't, Sprout." said Virgil, looking down at his watch. "The fact that dad hit Tom by accident proves that hitting people can end up with you hurting the wrong person. It's always best to just walk away. Now," he slapped his thighs and straightened up. "It's time for you to go to sleep."

"Oh, but Virge-" Alan began pleadingly.

"No buts, kiddo, you need to get some rest." Virgil smiled. "We can talk more in the morning, okay?"

Alan nodded in resignation and scooted down the bed, leaning forward to allow Gordon to lay his pillows down flat. Snuggling down under the duvet, he smiled sleepily up at his older brothers.

"Goodnight, squirt." Gordon said fondly, ruffling his hair. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. 'Night, Gordy." Alan murmured. "Go look at fish."

Gordon chuckled at the joke and gave Alan a gentle noogie. Then turning around, he jogged out of the room energetically. Virgil grinned down at Alan.

"I think Gordon ate too much cake, don't you?" he joked. Alan nodded in agreement, returning his brother's grin somewhat wearily. Virgil leaned forward and kissed his forehead gently. "Goodnight, Allie. Love you."

"Love you too, Virge." yawned the small boy, pulling his teddy bear close to his chest. "'Night."

Alan blinked tiredly as Virgil stood up to leave, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and sighing. His older brother gave Alan's cheek one final caress, before switching off the bed-side light and exiting the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Alan settled himself against his pillows and closed his eyes. His body was begging for sleep, and Alan was now quite willing to give in to its demands.

"Alan?"

The soft whisper caused him to wrench his heavy eyelids open, and he gazed in the direction of the speaker. Scott was standing in the doorway, John close behind him.

"Alan, are you asleep?" he asked. Alan smiled slightly at the somewhat ridiculous question. _I've only been trying for about thirty seconds. Of course I'm not asleep!_

Instead, he turned over slowly and waved wearily at his brothers "Not yet." he slurred.

The two tall forms crept into the room and up to the bedside, crouching down and smiling. In the light of the open door, Alan could easily make out their distinctive features. For example, John's platinum-blond hair almost seemed to glow in the dark.

"Sorry we were late, Sprout." Scott murmured softly, running his hand through Alan's hair. "We were in Thunderbird 1's silo with Brains, trying to finish the new modifications. It'll fly even faster now!"

Alan grinned sleepily. "Can I fly in it once it's built?" he asked. John and Scott exchanged glances, smiling slightly.

"Maybe when your a bit older, kiddo." John supplied. Alan was satisfied with that answer. After all, he'd be eleven in less than a year.

"Well, g'night Sprout." Scott whispered, leaning forward to kiss Alan's forehead gently. "Sweet dreams."

"Love you, Scotty." Alan murmured, his eyes beginning to droop again. Scott replied with a similar sentiment, leaning forward again to ruffle Alan's hair affectionately. John shuffled closer and planted a kiss on Alan's blond hair.

"Sleep tight, little buddy." he said softly. "Love you lots."

Alan smiled sleepily at the childish phrase that he had become accustomed to, blinking sleepily at the face beside him. "Love you too, Johnny. 'Night."

As both Scott and John stood up and left the room, Alan sighed contentedly to himself. He had four great older brothers who were fun, energetic and loving. He had a dad who was the best man on earth, even if he did accidentally punch the wrong guy from time to time. Fermat, who was more like a little brother than a best friend, would always be there for them to have fun time together. And Brains - Brains was more like an uncle than a family friend. But above all, ten-year-old Alan Tracy was certain of one fact, and one fact alone, as he drifted off into the land of sleep;

He had the greatest family in the whole wide world.

_- THE END -_

* * *

**_Okay folks, that's it! All done and dusted! I hope you enjoyed this fic, and thank you all so much for reviewing my chapters every day!_**

**_There are so many people to thank for this, so I'm gonna do a vague generalisation and a couple of personal thank-you's._**

**_Lissysue85 - thanks for your friendship and support throughout this story. It's been great getting to know you! I really enjoyed all our little chats, and I hope that you will continue to enjoy my stories in the future! You're great, girl!_**

**_criminally charmed - thanks for all your advice and your friendly pointers, I really appreciated the help! And thanks for continuing to review my stories no matter what, it really meant a lot to me! You rock, girl!_**

**_My big brothers - for reading my chapters and pointing out a couple of typos for me. I love you, guys!_**

**_General reviewers - it's been so nice to have my story appreciated like this. I've loved all your reviews, the concrit and the compliments. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter!_**

* * *

**_As a note, I am going away tomorrow for a wedding and will not be able to post my story for a whole week! So yeah, I'm sorry for all those who were hoping to hear from me straight away. It will give you a chance to look at some other fics! Lol._**

**My next story is called 'The Price of Paradise', and is about the occasion when Alan and Gordon become lost in the jugle during thunderstorm, as referred to in my story. The first chapter will be posted a week on sunday at the earliest. Have a nice week, guys!**


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